Staying Power
by uploadsforjack
Summary: A retelling of the Marvel Cinematic Universe to include Sigyn, Child of Vanaheim and Goddess of Fidelity. [UPDATED EVERY MONDAY.]
1. Chapter 1

There is a golden realm beyond our stars. Our people know this realm is an infinite place. This world is the ruler above the other eight. We know this world as "Asgard". My mother used to tell me stories of Asgardian conquest and knowledge. She spoke highly of their kings and queens, and she warned me of their arrogance.

She tells me of the Aesir even now. Dark clouds threaten to flood my homeland. The drums of war sound somewhere in the distance. Invasion endangers my mother's crown and my very own bloodline. But it doesn't stop her from riding. Bygul and Trjegul speed through fields of wheat at her command. Not even the cries of bloodshed can stop their sprint.

The massive felines halt in an empty section of the pasture. Bygul purrs quietly as I dismount him. Mother is quick to wrap me in her arms. Her chest pounds as rapidly as the drums. Up until now, I thought she might be fearless. No man or danger has ever had her bright blue eyes so wide, nor her face so pale.

"You must find Frigga, daughter. Are you listening?"

"Yes, mother."

"She will help you. Here, get your things. Mount your cat."

My cat? Bygul was always the head of her chariot. How can I accept such a gift? "But-"

"Do not argue with me. You must take him," she insists, sweeping back a stray strand of hair out of my eyes. "Take him, and he will lead you back to me one day."

Tears streak down my cheek. "I don't want to go, mother. Don't make me go."

"Sigyn, my child. You must." She cradles my face once again. "It is the only way to keep you safe."

"But I don't want to live with them."

"They will accept you as one of their own. You will study with their royalty. You will become like them."

The battle pushes closer in our direction. Mother turns my gaze to the other direction before I have the chance to lose any more innocence. I mount the grey-blue feline, who's ready to pounce.

"When I tell you to run, you have to run as fast as you can and you do not stop until she is safe," she instructs Bygul before turning to me. "Stay brave, my beloved." Lightning gathers in her palm. "I love you."

I cling to his neck, burying my face in his fur. "I love you too."

She takes in a large breathe and shouts with the fury of a queen. "Run!"

Bygul sprints as fast as he can towards the next field. The goddess of love yells an Asgardian name, and a pillar of light gathers around us. It lifts us up into the sky and shoots us through the stars. I shut my eyes tight and don't open them until the motion and sounds have stopped.

"Welcome to Asgard, child of Vanaheim."

* * *

**A NORDIC FUN FACT OF THE DAY:** Bygul and Trjegul are the two cats that lead Freya's golden chariot. They're pronounced as bee-gold and tree-gold. Weird, right?


	2. Chapter 2

My dreams have been filled with memories of my homeland since the day I left. I wake up each morning with the pain of longing in my chest. Every night Bygul waits by my bedside, prepared to comfort me from the aches of nostalgia. Mother really must've known what she was doing. There is no greater companion than he.

The first few years in Asgard are spent in a private school. Upon hearing of my place in the palace, the high council ordered that I would be educated as an Aesir. To take my place in the Asgardian royalty, I had to become one of them. I had to re-learn everything I was previously taught by Vanir tutors. I receive lessons from an accelerated, prestigious school on the edge of Asgard's fields.

Mother was right about the Aesir arrogance. Everything I learned related to glorifying the Asgardian gods and kings. I participated in their studies and focused on gaining high marks. But in secret, I held fast to the beliefs of my people. I prayed to my mother and sought to contact my father. He hadn't been seen by the Vanir for over five hundred years. I wondered if the dwarf had gone into hiding with the Asgardians.

My search proved fruitless, and I was eventually assimilated with the Asgardian people. Rather than keeping my hair down and unkempt, I learned to braid it. My slouch was corrected, and now I walk with a straight back. My Vanir slang faded, too. I never lost touch of my mother tongue, but I can speak the Asgardian language as well as any native can, now.

Bygul was also taught to be a proper pet. Since there had never been any creatures akin to him, the trainers acted as though he was a stallion. They trimmed his hair and crafted a saddle for his back.

I often wondered if my mother could see us. If she could, I think she might've wept. Mother would've hated to watch her daughter become royalty in the eyes of the Asgardians. Maybe she didn't understand the process of it all, or maybe she just didn't care. A wartorn country would have been better than the years of torture I endured to become one of them.

But today is different. Today, the etiquette training ends. My last challenge awaits. I sit with perfect posture, my hands lay delicately on my lap. My legs cross at the ankle. The white dress I've been provided rests on my shoulders without a single wrinkle. I've braided my long, strawberry hair down my back. A tutor even placed flowers through the weave to showcase my elegance.

"Ah, my darling! It is so wonderful to see you!" The teacher rises from her chair to greet the Queen of Asgard with a warm embrace.

I stand as well, folding my hands behind my back.

"Laga! Greetings my dear friend."

So this is the Frigga my mother told me to find. She's not at all what I thought the queen might look like. All this time, I imagined her as an old hag. The All-Mother appears exactly as her title might suggest. Rather than bow to an all-powerful queen, I want to run into her arms. She reminds me of my own mother.

The Queen approaches me, and I curtsey as I've been instructed to. Just as I bend, Frigga takes my hand in her own. I'm startled out of my skin that the queen of the gods has my hand in her palm. I'm waiting for her to slap it. That's what Laga did whenever I made a mistake. Instead, she squeezes it.

"You must've had such a difficult road, young one. Tell me, what do I call you?"

I worked for years to correct my stutter. When the queen asks me a question, I almost feel it creep back up on me. "Sigyn, Daughter of Freya, Princess of Vanaheim."

"What a pleasure to finally meet an heir of Freya," Frigga says. "Please, tell me of Vanaheim."

Is this a part of my final exam? I sit with her on a lounging couch, hyper-aware of my body language. Not once in our conversation do I flinch, slouch, look away, or perhaps even breathe. I begin to answer her question with my fonder memories of Vanaheim. I tell her of my many sisters, and of the vast forests. I recall my home as if it wasn't ravaged by war.

She listens intently to my story, pressing forward like she's holding on to every word. After I've finished, Frigga leans back against the couch, releasing all sense of elegance and perfection.

"It's exactly as I remember."

"You've been there?"

"Been there? Child, Vanaheim is my homeland."

The Queen of the Aesir is actually a Vanir! One of my own people rules over the nine realms. If she could become so powerful in Asgard then perhaps I can turn out well, too. For the first time since I arrived in the golden realm, I feel a surge of hopefulness wash over me. Relief fills every crack in my spirit.

"I had no idea. When was the last time you visited?"

"At least a millennium ago," she says, sadly. "I wanted to return so dearly, but my duties have kept me here."

"Are you aware Vanaheim is at war?" I ask, despite the harsh glare from my teacher.

"I am. The Asgardians stand with your people, Sigyn."

Promises mean nothing to kings and queens. At least, that's what mother taught me. She told me never to trust royalty. Kings and queens are only in authority because of trickery and bloodshed. Their words are full of selfishness, especially as they make promises. But with Frigga? I want to believe her.

"Thank you, Your Majesty."

The queen clasps her hands together. "Well, I think Sigyn is ready for the Asgardian courts. Wouldn't you agree, Laga?"

The teacher smiles through clenched teeth. "Most definitely."

The palace is exactly as my mother described in all of her stories. It rises high into the sky, towering above with clouds with unparalleled majesty. Gold and precious jewels adorn this home of royalty— my home, now. I only wish she could she could be here with me. I want her to feel the same exhilaration and excitement that I do.

That spark of joy ignites once we pass through the gates. Orchids of apple trees and thick gardens span to my left. On my right is a large battle arena that I can only assume is for training Asgard's top warriors. As soon as we enter, everyone stops their activities. They bow to their queen but don't hesitate to show their distaste for me. I feel the heat of their sneers on my back, and they don't try and hide racist remarks.

"Don't pay attention to them. They will receive correction when the time comes."

I'm grateful to have Frigga at my side. There's no one else I could've done this with. All eyes are on us, and all of them are negatively affixed on my presence.

"Come, I'd like for you to meet my sons."

Bygul follows her steed through a paved path of the garden. A group of young Aesir approach the queen and I. Leading them is a blonde male who runs up to my pet without fear. He scratches just behind the cat's ears, eliciting a hard purr from him.

"What a magnificent creature!"

"Thor, this is Sigyn," Frigga says as she dismounts her horse. "A daughter of Freya and a princess of Vanaheim. She's now a member of our courts."

Thor bows at the waist. "Welcome to Asgard."

A dark-headed woman walks up to Bygul now, only slightly more apprehensive than Thor. "Sif," she says. "I'm going to be the first female on the King's guard. What are you here for?"

"I—"

How can I tell her I'm here on the last plea of my mother, who might not have survived a war that's destroying my home? Thankfully, I don't have to.

"Sigyn is here to study with you all."

"A foreign exchange student?" Another boy asks. This one has obviously been kissed by the sun. "Who's going to Vanaheim, then? It's certainly not me!" He bows. "Fandral, by the way."

"No one is going to Vanaheim," Frigga assures.

"Volstagg." The largest boy welcomes me with a warm smile. "I've dreamt of feasting on the rich delicacies of Vanaheim since I was a boy."

"You still are a boy," another one chimes in. This one greets me in the way of my people: a generous hug. "Greetings, Sigyn. My name is Hogun, and I'm also from your homeland."

"Oh? When did you leave?"

"I was a child when my parents were invited into Odin's council. I don't remember much of it, but I would love to hear about what it's like now."

Frigga looks around, searching for her other son. "Where is your brother, Thor?"

He thinks hard before answering. "I believe he's still in the library."

She instructs Thor to take my pet to his stable as we say goodbye to the crew of up-and-coming royalty. On our way to the library, Frigga gives me a general tour of the palace grounds. There is a training and tournament arena on the far side of the grounds. On the other side are the orchids and gardens we walked through earlier. In the back is a pool that seems to stretch on forever.

The ground floor of the palace is used for official business. Both the throne room and school are on this floor. The second floor is strictly for enjoyment. A ballroom, feasting room and library sit back to back in this humongous space. The third floor is strictly for living quarters. No one is allowed on this floor unless they are a member of the royal party.

Even though the palace is the most beautiful structure I can imagine, I already feel trapped within these walls. My people prefer to do everything outside. We meet outdoors, we feast in fields, and we dance in forests. These metal halls feel cold to me. I wonder if Frigga feels the same way.

I find my mouth agape once we enter the giant library. All of the stories of the nine realms must be in here. I reach for the first shelf, completely forgetting my company. The first book I pry open is one of war stories, the second one is flooded with ancient spells, and the third one is of mythical creatures and their uses. Bygul and his brother appear in this one.

"Ah, yes. The felines that lead Freya's chariot," a voice hums behind me. "I believe they're only a myth, now."

I slam the book shut, startled at the voice. My pale cheeks flush with embarrassment when I hear a soft laugh come from Frigga.

"Sigyn, meet my other son, Loki."

The holder of the voice greets me identically to his brother, although they appear to be complete opposites. Loki's hair is black as the night, while Thor's is golden. Loki's skin is pale, too. Much unlike Thor's complexion.

"Greetings."

"Hello," I say breathlessly. Swooping the hair out of my face, I try and gather my thoughts. "And no, the cats are not a myth. My mother gifted me one before I left Vanaheim."

Loki doesn't seem to believe me. "There's one here, then? On Asgard?"

"There is. You're welcome to see him-"

"After dinner." Frigga finishes his thought. "The All-Father is waiting on us, and he is eager to meet you, child."

* * *

**A NORDIC FUN FACT OF THE DAY:** Laga is actually a goddess of the spring and bffs with Odin. I couldn't find another suitable teacher for Sigyn (and Loki and Thor before her), so I opted for a family friend and a lesser known Aesir.


	3. Chapter 3

Apparently, my arrival is cause for a celebration. The feasting hall spills over with servants carrying mountains of food upon jeweled platters. A table in the center spans from the left side of the room all the way to the other. Live music pours from a small stage against another wall. A window is open to allow the natural sunset to glimmer off of the gold arrangement.

Royalty and officials take up certain sections of the table, eagerly awaiting the arrival of their king and queen. Thor's sitting along with his friends. Sif sits on one side, while the other is left empty. Upon seeing us, Thor waves drastically to get the attention of his brother.

"I saved you a seat, Loki!"

The younger brother shoots me a sideways glance. "Perfect." He says, putting on a wide grin for his sibling.

The warrior maiden motions for me to take the seat beside her and Fandral. "Come sit with us."

"Have you ever been to a feast before, Sigyn?" Volstagg asks from the far end of the table.

"Yes," I say. "Though the feasts on Vanaheim don't seem to be as extravagant as they are here."

Thor bellows from a few seats away. "Of course not! Nothing is as grand as Asgard's festivities."

"Perhaps that's why you've gained weight since last week," Sif smirks.

Has the prince gained weight? I surely haven't noticed. All I see are lines of sculpted muscles beneath silver armor. I'm so small compared to him. Well, I'm small compared to every Aesir. Volstagg stands the largest and the thickest. Thor is right behind him. Fandral, Sif, Hogun, and Loki follow behind him in that order. Even standing against Loki, I only come to his shoulder.

I blame my dwarf heritage; They only stand at four feet. If they're lucky, they may reach a few inches taller than that. I find that I'm even more grateful for my mother's height lest I be as short as my father.

"Silence!"

Everyone stops moving at the command. We stand to welcome the All-Father to the feasting hall. Servants open the door for their king. I hold my breath as Odin enters the feasting chamber. I thought my mother was powerful, but even she held the highest respect for the king of Asgard. He could have me killed with a mere wave of his hand, or throw me in prison for a wrong gesture.

He stands tall, covered from head to toe in golden armor. A metal eye patch covers the empty space where a Frost Giant took his eye. That was Mother's favorite story to tell. Odin walks to the head of the table, taking the hand of his queen in his own. He kisses it, bidding her a good afternoon.

My worried gaze turns soft. For the multitude of the All-Father's mistakes, he must surely love his wife. His deed pierces the wall of my heart. I'm softened by the tender act of one so powerful. Thrones and kingdoms shall come and go. That is the history of the worlds. Faithfulness is eternal, and there's nothing more priceless than that.

"Greetings, my friends and family," He begins, wearing a smile that would warm the heart of Jotunheim. "It is an honor to have you gather with me this fine afternoon. Today, we celebrate the integration of Vanaheim and Asgard. A daughter of Freya has come to live amongst us as one of our own. Her presence fulfills a treaty that was written over five centuries ago. With her residence, we vow to lend our aid to the Vanir. We stand by them in their battle against the Jotnar. Welcome Sigyn, Daughter of Freya, Princess of the Vanir."

Applause fills my ears. The stares and smiles of royalty burn through my skin. I should be reveling in the attention, but I'm frozen in place. Why wasn't I told the truth about my relocation? Frea– Mother would've warned me about such an event. She wouldn't have sent me here just to keep some sort of peace, wouldn't she?

"Thank you." I put on my best, dazzling smile. "I appreciate the generosity the king and queen." With that, I elicit another round of applause. "I've already begun to think of Asgard as home."

Now I have a duty. The responsibility of saving my home and people rests on my shoulders. It's clear this role is a competitive and lifelong one. A single wrong step could have me sent home and the warriors on Vanaheim called back to Asgard. I didn't ask for it, but now it is mine to bear.

At the conclusion of my thanks, Odin allows everyone to begin feasting. I'm glad the attention of off me and onto the food, for I chew on my lower lip more than on the pheasant.

"Are we going to Vanaheim, Father?" Thor asks.

Sif perks up from her meal as well. "Yes! Shall we?"

"Oh, I would so love to!"

"My friends," Hogun chimes in. "This is Sigyn's and my homeland you're speaking of. Try and use some tact, if you must talk of it."

Fandral agrees. "The spoils of war needn't spoil our dinner."

The eldest son mumbles something about being soft under his breath while turning his attention back to the king.

"You may venture there in three days. The two days prior, you must train with our Jotnar instructors."

"Must I go?" Loki asks from within the cheers of his peers.

"Where would your brother be without you, my son? Journey with him. I believe you will find Vanaheim rich with knowledge and magic of your liking."

I will not be allowed to go. I know it without having to ask. I will never be allowed to return to Vanaheim unless I'm escorted. That's how these treaties work. I shall forever remain in Asgard as a token of Vanir respect and submission.

My heart spills out like sand between clenched fingertips. The Asgardians dance and eat the night away, but I've isolated myself from the festivities. I cling to the balcony of the ballroom, seeking the stars for comfort. They're quiet tonight, dimmed by the glow of the golden realm. Now that I'm here, the fantasy of Asgard has all but fallen away. This is not the realm of eternal life. It is the realm of bones and power.

"Would you like some company?"

Who am I to refuse the queen?

"That would be lovely, Your Highness."

"Please, there is no need for formalities when we are related by our home."

I allow for the plastered smile to fade. My slouch returns. Simply the mention of my homeland is enough to warrant tears.

"Don't cry, my child." She wipes them from my face. "I know exactly what you are going through, and you have to remain brave."

That's exactly what Mother said when she sent me away.

"You did?"

"Why do you think I'm here?" Frigga asks, quietly.

"What treaty did you fill?"

"The one that ended the century-long war between the Aesir and Vanir," She says. "My own mother was once a ruler of the Vanir. When the Odin came to Vanaheim seeking to vanquish us, he saw–"

"The most beautiful woman I had ever laid eyes upon." The All-Father interrupts our meeting.

"And so a treaty was written to end the war between our people, so long as we joined in marriage."

"Had it not been so, we might still be at war and I might not have the wisest of queens."

It's very clear she loves him. The way her eyes sparkle when he speaks tells the depth of her affection. Frigga's drawn to him. She looks at him as if I'm not standing right beside her. How can she love someone who took her away? How did she ever forgive him for killing her people, or forcing her into the marriage?

"I say this to encourage you, Sigyn. It took me centuries to even look at him, but he was persistent to earn my trust. He would not have me as a trophy. Instead, he valued me as a wife. Had I not fallen in love with him, I might have sought to end my life after all these centuries."

"Yes, the Norns have a way of weaving our fates together for the good."

"Over time you might learn to love Asgard just as I do."

"May I have a dance, my queen?"

He takes her hand and leads her back into the ballroom, leaving me alone once again.

I rejoin the festivities at their ending. Most of the officials have gone to put children to bed, and the remaining bunch are so intoxicated that they can hardly stand. They act as though they hadn't noticed my absence the entire night.

Once the king and queen have retired to their chamber, I excuse myself to return to my own quarter. Before I do so, I abscond to the stables. Curfew isn't enforced, but Laga once said it's not ladylike to be out after dark. She must not understand that the best time to be out is after the sun has already fallen.

I pass by the snoozing stable boy to mount Bygul. I hardly recognize him with so many Asgardian garments covering his natural fur. Feeling a sense of urgency, I remove everything from his back. This is how I like him. It's how I feel most comfortable riding, too. Once we've crept out of the stable, we take off into the night.

He rides as far and as fast as he can, reaching the orchids of Asgard's palace in a matter of seconds. Speeding through the trees with Bygul, I feel the freest I have since I left Vanaheim. It occurs to me that this freedom is my natural state. Wind belongs in my wild hair. Grass belongs in between my bare toes.

The orchids end too soon, and we're met with a high wall of gold. Bygul could cross it if he runs fast enough. In the silence of calculation, I hear the clomping of a horse. It stops only a few feet behind us.

"Wait," the younger prince of Asgard says. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

"Why not?" I ask, embarrassed to face him in such a shape.

"You won't make it to the Bifrost before Odin orders for your return."

"I'm not escaping."

Loki alights from his animal. "I don't believe you're allowed outside of the palace gates without an escort."

"You could be my escort."

He laughs, making the situation even more awkward.

"I'm sorry?"

"I could, but such an engagement might look scandalous."

Scandalous. The assumptions of these Asgardians is baffling. Such a thing would never take place in Vanaheim. Then again, my mother wouldn't demand a living sacrifice from Odin to fulfill a treaty, either.

"I assumed every Asgardian thrived in that kind of limelight."

"You would be so wise to not mistake me for my older brother," Loki scoffs. "He would not tolerate your disrespect."

A fire that Mother would be proud of surges in my gut. She would not permit this small prince of a blood-crafted kingdom to speak in such a manner. I shouldn't either! But I am not her, and I am not home. I am trapped here and I am powerless. That fire dims just as quickly as it appeared.

"My apologies," I say. "Please, forgive my offense. I meant no disrespect against you or your family, Your Majesty."

His frustration dims, but only slightly. "What is your intention now? You've come to Asgard to complete a treaty, doomed to a life in the palace of your former enemies. What is it you want to do with that kind of power?"

"I have not placed myself in this position to sabotage your father. I was sent without my consent!"

"Whether you knew it or not, that power is now yours. What will you do with it?"

"I–" My fingers file through my hair, the emotions uncontrolled in my chest. "I just want to save my people. I just want my mother to be alive. I want to see my sisters again. Without this treaty, they're all going to perish. I will not stand by while they're murdered, so I'm playing whatever part I must to ensure that. I will stay for as long as Odin demands it."

"You've seen my mother," He says. "He will demand your entire life."

"What do you care about my life?" I hiss, climbing aboard my cat.

"I don't."

But everything in his body language suggests otherwise.

* * *

**A NORDIC FUN FACT:** The Aesir/Vanir war actually ended because both fighting parties "grew weary" of the fighting and called a truce. As the custom, Freya, Freyr, and Njord went to the Aesir party while Heonir and Mimir went to the Vanir. Obviously, I switched the exchanges around a bit for the story.


	4. Chapter 4

I stay up most of the night. I'm angry I was treated with such hostility and angry that there is nothing I can do about it. Loki understands that. Perhaps that's why he was so open about his detest of me. Is it because I'm an heir to the throne of Vanaheim and the history of our people is so vicious? Is it because he truly believes I will take whatever course necessary to demolish the reign of Asgard? What reason don't I have to do so? And if so, can I blame him for approaching me so bluntly?

Wouldn't I do the same thing?

It must only be a matter of time before Odin sends his guards to remove me from the palace, I'm sure. Loki had to have told his parents about our interaction. Perhaps the king is waiting for daylight to send me back home. Oh, what will I do? How shall I face whatever's left of my people, knowing that I failed them?

Then perhaps this is a trick of the prince. Maybe he wants me to feel terrified. He wants me to know that he's looking over my shoulder, suspicious of every breath I take. Loki must be playing some demented mind game to assert his control over the palace.

But then again, such a thought is absurd. What vexation would a prince of Asgard have with a mere trophy of a princess?

At some point, I must've fallen asleep, for I wake up to the sound of a servant tapping on my door.

"My lady? If you do not wake, you will be tardy!"

With the fury of a thousand tornadoes, I whip out of bed and thrust open the door, pretending that I'm not a complete wreck.

"Yes, thank you. Would you mind assisting me this morning? I fear I don't know what to wear."

Snotra is more than flattered to have been chosen to pick my wardrobe for the day. She chooses an almost-white light pink dress. It hangs from my shoulders and drips down the floor, but it's loose just as I like my outfits to be. I don't prefer dresses, but if I must wear one, I'm glad it's one I can run in. I start to walk out of the door without shoes, too. I hardly wore them in Vanaheim, but Snotra insists I put some on.

Now uncomfortable in my own skin, I join the young Asgardians in their school room. It's a large room, but only seven of us fill the seats. Loki sits in the front and doesn't look up when I enter, even as the rest of them welcome me with bright smiles. Hogun and Fandral sit beside him. Thor, Volstagg, and Sif take up the second row. Off to the side sitting in the middle of the rows is an empty desk.

I take it awkwardly, adjusting my books atop my desk in order of subject. Meanwhile, I try to keep my greetings short. I fear that if I talk too much, Loki will reveal the unpleasant conversation we had last night.

What have I to hide? My desire to save my people? I hate thinking of the second son of Asgard. I hate how clean and prestigious he looks. Elegance exudes from him while his nose is stuck in a book. How unfair that he gets to appear so perfectly polished and I feel so untamed.

"Good morning, children!" A voice says as it enters the room.

A servant sets a large head on a pedestal in front of our desks. My mouth drops (quite unladylike) when it begins speaking.

"Surely, you've all met our new student."

"Unfortunately," Loki says under his breath, which warrants a gentle shove from Thor.

How humiliating! I lower myself onto my stack of books.

The head clears it's throat before beginning again. "Well, I want to welcome you to class. I am Mimir–"

"I know you!" I blurt out, directing all unwanted attention onto me. My face turns bright pink. "I... well, I mean my mother, Freya does. Do you remember her?"

I ignore the annoyed eye-roll from the youngest prince.

Mimir would nod if he had a body. Instead, he has to settle for a beaming grin. "Why yes, of course! Freya is your mother?"

"Indeed."

"What an honor to have a child of the love goddess among us. Might I ask, is she doing well?"

The first sincere smile that I'd held in years wipes away. I'm unable to answer him for a few minutes. How can I even answer? I haven't seen my mother since I was a little girl.

"I don't know, really. I suspect she'll be doing wonderfully once the Aesir lend their aid to her."

"I heard we were doing that. Class, let's prepare for our trip to Vanaheim by refreshing our memory of their tradition, shall we?"

It's very clear the bodiless teacher has held onto the ancient tongue of the Vanir giants. By the size of his head, I don't doubt he was one. The war that Frigga ended is the same one where Mimir lost his body. The legend says that Odin preserved his head and brought the giant back to life to hear of ancient wisdom and knowledge.

It makes sense that Mimir is now teaching the future kings of Asgard. He's looking out for his legacy by putting the wisest of men in front of his sons. It seems as though Loki could learn a thing or two.

We spend the morning learning about the vast workings of my people. Mimir tells us of our forests and rivers. He recalls our hidden covens of healing and woodland magic. It warms my heart to hear him speak of my friends and family so fondly. I don't bother with remembering Loki until the class is dismissed.

Still, I remain friendly and bright. I visit with the young warriors, telling them of the many riches Vanaheim has to offer. All while Loki keeps to his novel. He only begins to listen when I talk about our library.

After lunch, we're instructed to change into training gear. Snotra and Sif both assist in fitting me into armor.

"You're so small," Sif mentions while stuffing tissue into the empty space around my legs.

Snotra gives up after we try the five smallest breastplates. Instead of silver and gold armor, I'm fitted with tight, thick leather across my torso and legs. A thinner cloth guards my hands and feet. It's not desirable for actual battle, but it's good enough for my first training.

The outfit reminds me of my mother. She would wear such attire while hunting. The leather provides protection from thorns and bushes while keeping a free range so she can still sprint at full speed. I used to go hunting with her. I know how to use a bow, dagger, and spear to retrieve a meal, but I've never had to use any weapon against a non-animal.

Apparently, I must use those instincts now. Thor swings the mighty Mjolnir at a straw dummy, shattering it into pieces. Volstagg wields an ax that could cut me in two. Hogun takes a metallic mace in his hand, very reminiscent of our people. Fandral sheaths a sword that could bleed out any enemy with a single slash. Loki fiddles with throwing knives between his fingers. Sif joins them, storing a shield, sword, bow, and three daggers on her body. I don't even compare to any of them.

As soon as she rejoins the group they split up into three sections, practicing their battle techniques.

Mimir sits on another pedestal at the front of the arena. Since I'm left partnerless, I stand beside him.

"Do you have a weapon of choice, Daughter of Freya?"

I shake my head. "I've hunted with many of these weapons. I'm not sure if I can even hold my own against another being– much less an Asgardian."

He thinks for a moment, staring intently at the circles in the dirt. "Did you possess your mother's magic?"

Again, I don't have an answer to give him. "I don't know. I've never tried to conjure seidr."

"That'll be something we test out now that you're here. Who knows, you might be quite the sorceress."

It's an absurd thought. Too many of my sisters inherited her magical power for me to get any. I always believed I would get a different trait of her. Perhaps her patience, or something less war-oriented. I've always hated war.

"Must I train? They're all so advanced, Mimir."

"I'm sorry, but it's Odin's policy for every member of the Asgardian palace to train for battle, Sigyn. The All-Father wants every member of his flock to be able to defend themselves. Why don't you practice with that dummy over there?"

He motions to an old, wooden dummy on the side of the arena, secluded from the open area where the Asgardians train. I'm thankful to have privacy. I'm only going to embarrass myself. I pick up the smallest bow in my hand and slip on a quiver of arrows.

Standing quite a few feet back, I pull on the string to make sure there's no access slack. I take an arrow and align it with the string and wood. Finally I draw back, breathe, and release. The first arrow flies into the arm of the dummy.

It's not a miss, but it's not a perfect shot. Competitiveness rises within me. Twice as quickly, I go through the motions. This time, it lands in a thigh. Once again I draw, breathe, and release. Hand. Draw, breathe, release. Shoulder. Draw, release. Stomach. Draw, release. Chest. Draw, release. Head.

"Sigyn?" Volstagg says. "Sigyn, training is over. Won't you rejoin us?"

"Ah, yes." I sheepishly put away my bow and gather with the rest of the Aesir around Mimir's pedestal.

"You did very well today. Tomorrow, we're going to be training with our Jotnar instructor. Make sure to get lots of rest. I will see you all tomorrow."

"My new friend!" Thor calls over the bunch to me. His voice calls the attention of our peers. "My Lady, I have a wager for you."

"Oh?"

"This ought to be good," Loki says.

"I bet that my fastest steed can beat your cat in a race."

Finally, some fun.

"What do I get if I win?"

The doubts of my ability creep into my new friends.

"Sigyn, you don't have to do this," Sif says.

Fandral follows her statement. "Right. He's just talking out of his arse."

"Bragging rights," the prince holds out a hand. "As shall I."

The younger takes his brother's side. "It's just a harmless competition, Sigyn. Let's see what you've got."

I take his hand. "You're on, Sons of Odin."

Thor pumps his fists in the air. "To the stables, then!"

* * *

**A NORDIC FUN FACT:** Snotra is actually a handmaiden of Frigg. She's the goddess of courtesy, meaning she's the perfect goddess to help Sigyn stay within Asgardian etiquette.


	5. Chapter 5

"Where are we racing to?"

"To the Rainbow Bridge. Sif will have a white flag. Whoever grabs it first is the winner."

"A few rules," Loki adds. "If at any moment you hit a civilian, you're disqualified from the race. The use of weapons and powers are prohibited."

Fandral shoots Thor an extra long glare at that one.

"You may use any gear on your animal that you deem necessary."

Bygul doesn't appreciate being looked over by Loki and Volstagg to ensure he has no secret contraption on him, but he's ready to run. After our last interaction with Loki, Bygul's been itching to show up the cocky prince. I feel it in the way he claws the ground and emits a low growl whenever the youngest prince gazes in his direction.

Thor decorates his large, chestnut horse in the best saddles, blankets, and bridles that Asgard could offer. I perform the opposite. I strip Bygul of every artifact the stable boy insisted on fitting him with. I ride bareback, trusting the cat to lead us to victory.

Fandral, Hogun, and Loki ride out along the racing path to keep track of who's in the lead. Sif has already gone ahead to secure her position at the Bifrost.

The elder prince chuckles once we line side by side. He must be thinking this is going to be an easy win. We'll teach him to pick his battles, won't we? The path is clearly marked with light granite gravel. It weaves in and out of Asgard's forests into the market before reaching the plains and farmland, and then finally the Rainbow Bridge.

Volstagg hobbles in front of us and raises a flag in the air. As soon as he drops it, we'll be off. My hands grip tightly onto my feline's blue-grey fur. My knees clutch into his side. The flag drops.

We take off down the path. The thrill of a race fuels Bygul's gallop. Thor keeps to our side until we reach the first turn. Bygul leaps in the curve, while his steed must slow. I take the lead but not for long. The prince quickly regains the distance he lost just as we enter the forest where Fandral's waiting for our arrival.

Trees, rocks, and ponds interrupt our path. Bygul and I lunge for the rocky path while Thor chooses to dart between trees. Our path goes up instead of down, giving him first place. I'm determined to make up that slack. The moment we reach the top of the rocky ledge, my feline leaps from it landing only a few feet behind Thor.

My cat picks up his pace as we enter a clearing again. Just up ahead is the marketplace where Loki is waiting for us. This is where we must be careful to keep away from Asgard's citizens. Thor becomes cautious as we reach it, but Bygul jumps for the rooftops. The cat bounds from house to house and store to store high above the heartbeat of Asgard. The elder prince looks up, astounded at the feat and throws his fists up in the air again. He lets out a loud cheer while picking up his speed.

Hogun's standing beside the road just as we're about to clear the marketplace. Bygul leaps from the rooftop and lands in the center of the road. He continues his chase after the Asgardian, but I find myself midair before I can even understand what's happened.

A woman carrying a vase of water ran out into the street after Thor passed her. To keep from hitting her, Bygul came to an immediate stop. It sent me flying from his back.

"Look out!" I scream, but it's too late. My arm knicks her side, knocking both of us off balance. I land on my shoulder and tumble down the grassy hill. The cracking of my bones makes me cringe and the blood dripping from my arm is nauseating, but I am going to finish this race!

Hogun reaches for my hand, but I deny it. Bygul picks me up by the shirt and returns me on his back. Thor has quite a lead now. It'll take everything he's got to catch up with the prince. We can do it. We must! I'm determined to keep this stride, even though my right hand can't even grab a fistful of fur.

As we reach the plains of Asgard, the prince is losing his momentum. After such a long race, his steed is ready to rest in a light trot. He forces it to keep going but they're clearly losing ground. The Rainbow Bridge comes into view as we reach Thor's side. Sif waves the flag in the air. It's between Asgard and Vanaheim, now. Who truly is the better racer? Which is the better race?

Bygul leaps in the air. He flips above the warrior girl. With a bloody hand, I take the flag from her grasp. We cross only a second before the thunder prince does. We land behind Sif and hear the cheering of our classmates and friends. Even Thor is applauding our win.

"That was some magnificent racing, my friend! Let us do this again once you're healed."

"That was amazing."

"Sigyn has been disqualified from the race," Loki interrupts. "Thor is the true winner here."

"What do you mean?" Sif demands.

"She hit a civilian in the marketplace. We said beforehand that hitting a citizen in any sort disqualifies the racer."

"Come now, Loki! It was still a good race, was it not?"

"The race was over the second she ran into that woman."

Arguments erupt among the friends but I don't pay attention. I'm running my hand through my most faithful companion. He understands everything I could ever want; He kept me going. Foolishly, I wonder if my mother's promise is true. Maybe he will bring me back to her one day. Maybe that one day will be soon.

Pain from my injury sets in as we begin the ride back.

"Stop!" Sif shouts. "Let me look at her arm."

The warrior feels along my collarbone and shoulder. She runs her fingers along my shoulderblade until I can't bear her touch anymore. I clean my wounds with a wet cloth for her to examine them. A large bruise begins to form above my chest. I already know what's happened before she even says it.

"She's broken her collarbone," she diagnoses. "We need to get her back to Eir."

"It's going to be a painful ride back," Hogunn chimes. "Are we sure she can make it?"

"She must! We'll get reprimanded if she doesn't." Fandral says.

"Why don't you heal her, Loki? You've performed healing spells before."

The prince looks down upon me, debating if I'm worth his talents or not.

"I'm fine," I hiss. "I can make it back to the palace."

What I mean to say is that I don't need help from this arrogant prince. I don't need the help of anyone in this forsaken realm. If I was in Vanaheim, I would've been healed already. Our magic knows no limits. My sisters would've come to my rescue. I would be safe at home in my palace of stone. I would be where I belong.

The ride back is exactly as Hogun expects it to be. Every trot is an agonizing one, even with a makeshift sling. Blood continues to trickle down my side and arm, making me sticky and weak.

As night falls, Thor tries to sneak us back into the palace walls. Just as our crew slips through the main gates, Frigga is waiting. She's pacing, wringing her hands together.

"What are you doing out?" She demands of her sons, grabbing both of them by the arm. Perhaps it's not Odin who has kept her here all these years. Maybe it's them.

As soon as she sees me, her face turns pale with distress. "Oh, my dear! What happened to you?"

"I–" I feel embarrassed to even mention it. I raced a prince, and I lost. Even worse than that, I got hurt doing it, and now I can barely talk from the amount of pain I'm in.

"We were racing, mother. It was an accident," Thor apologizes. "It was my fault, really."

"Get her to Eir. Now."

Sif and Fandral help lower me from my cat. The two of them stay on either side, ensuring that I don't fall and damage myself even further.

The goddess of healing is waiting at the infirmary for us. I'm ushered onto a bed and left to be healed.

"Did Thor put you up to this race?" She asks, mixing a liquid potion. "I can tell the All-Mother–"

"No," I insist. "I wanted to."

She squeezes the juice from a ripe Idunn's apple into the concoction. The healer isn't convinced but drops the topic, anyway. "Your Vanir blood should do quite well with this elixir. It will take the pain away very soon. After that, the regeneration will begin. By morning, you'll be back to normal. For now, I want you to get some rest. Rest is the body's natural healer."

I drink the sweet liquid that taste of apple cider and vanilla. Warm memories of my home accompany my thoughts until I drift to sleep.

* * *

**A NORDIC FUN FACT OF THE DAY:** Eir means "protection, help, mercy". She's been theorized to be a Valkyrie. She can actually be seen in Thor: The Dark World. Eir is the elder healer that speaks to Jane about the "Quantum Field Generator".


	6. Chapter 6

Through most of the night, I'm surrounded by the warmth and tenderness that only home can harvest. At least, I think so. The dreams are of images and feelings, rather than memories I've already lived. I see Mother's glowing smile, Nanna's thick red hair, and the thick forest that spreads all across the palace grounds.

Finally, the images land on a battlefield. It's flooded and rain continues to pour. Vanaheim is usually balanced in nature. There are no droughts, no famines, and especially no flooding. A war rages between all of the nine realms. At the helm of a vicious army is a woman. She's fiery in her gaze but not like Sif. Sif is not malicious like this one.

My dream becomes reality as I'm woken from a flash that lights all of Asgard. The sky in the sunny realm has grown dark with the threat of an oncoming storm. Something must've happened.

"Good. You're awake." Eir smiles as if nothing's wrong. "How are you feeling?"

I rub the sleepiness out of my eyes. "What? What's going on outside?"

The healer presses a hand against my forehead. "Just a little rain, deary. Thor must be in a battle in Vanaheim, already."

Three of the things she just mentioned were present in my dream. My people believe dreams are visions of the future or warnings from the past. It can't be a coincidence.

"Already? I thought they weren't due for another day."

"I suppose Odin approved an early departure. You're going to have to ask to be sure. Now, can you answer my question?"

Sitting up, I move my shoulder around in its socket. The bruise is still visible, but most of the pain has faded away. What remains must be the last of the healing process. With Eir's blessing and a new sling, I'm released back to my daily duties (save for training), which means I'm returning to class alone.

The bodiless teacher is reading through ancient Vanir spellbooks when I arrive. I don't like how empty it is. Each desk is a shocking reminder of what I could lose.

"Greetings, child! How's the arm?"

"Better," I say. "So Odin cleared them to leave early?"

"Yes, and as a matter of fact, the All-Father went with them. I hear the battle is going quite well. The Jotnar have already begun to retreat!"

"Any idea when they may return?"

"A few days, I would guess. Is something troubling you, Freyudottir?"

My brows knit together. Sharing my visions isn't something I'm comfortable with, especially when it comes to the Aesir. But Mimir is a deity of knowledge. Perhaps he can enlighten me. Then again, he reports to Odin each night. My visions are better left shared with someone else.

"I had an unpleasant dream last night," I say. "I think it had something to do with the potion Eir gave me."

"Ah yes. Her concoctions can do that. I'm sure you'll be feeling much better very soon. Now then, let's discuss this whole magic thing, shall we?"

"What do you mean? I said before that I didn't inherit–"

"Not another word. I just read here that heirs of magic can take hundreds of years to blossom. This exact day might be just the right time to begin experimenting. What do you say?"

"I'll try it."

I shortly come to bite those words. Mimir has me try everything from alchemy to necromancy. By the time the class is dismissed, my teacher is almost out of ideas.

"I have one more idea to test out."

I hope my exhausted glare is enough to defer his determination.

It's not.

"There's a special type of seidr. It allows the practitioner to seek out the hidden, which can mean a variety of things: seeing through lies, prophesying, and even explaining dreams and visions. The uses are really limitless. It's also used to do the opposite. It can curse a recipient with lying, false visions– you get the idea."

"How shall I perform this ritual?"

He walks me through the entire performance. First, I'm told to imagine something false. Loki comes to mind, here. Then I think of something true, so I think of home. I form my hands in the symbol of life across my chest, and then of death above my forehead. My last thoughts turn to what I want to find: the truth in my vision. I spread my arms with one final symbol of truth.

A glow emits from my chest, casting the room back. The symbol of war scripts beneath my feet into the ground. I fall in the middle of the inscription, exhausted by my efforts. Mimir rolls to see what's come of my spell. His eyes grow wide.

"What were your dreams about, Sigyn?"

I retell of my night. Before I've even finished my story, Mimir calls for the high council of Asgard.

"We should continue your training at a later date. The stars have predicted the arrival of this army, and I believe your vision to be true. If it that's the case, Asgard must prepare for war."

I'm quickly escorted from the classroom as the high officials start to enter. As if the vision wasn't mine, I'm forgotten from Asgard's sight. Having no right to protest my attendance, I spend the afternoon in the company of my cat. I ride him out to the tip of the palace orchids, where I groom him and trim his long claws.

I try not to think of the power I just showcased. Now that I have, the Aesir are sure to use me for as long as I can perform. I will surely be trapped here no matter what circumstances might come my way. I have sealed my own prison here.

But my other thoughts are no better. Whatever's happening in Vanaheim, I pray to my mother that my friends are safe. I pray that even Loki remains mostly untouched by the battle. The loss I have known is great. How much more shall I endure before the Norns give me a resting place?

The Bifrost powers up again as the sun starts to set. With a guard as my escort, I ride out to meet the returning warriors. The gatekeeper welcomes me at the bridge. He was in Mother's stories, too. He sees every movement across the nine realms, even the ones made in darkness. I wonder if he sees my visions, too.

"Greetings, Sigyn of Vanaheim."

"Greetings." I swallow my nervousness. "If– If you don't mind me asking, who's returned?"

"My sister has come back from Vanaheim, and her heart aches. She requests to be alone–"

"It's okay," Sif says, appearing from the entrance of the nine realms. "It's okay, brother. I shall ride back with Sigyn."

How did I not know that Sif and Heimdall were kin? I feel embarrassed at such a lack of knowledge, but Sif's condition takes away my selfish feelings. The warrior is pale like she's been wounded but I see no mark on her flesh.

"What happened to you?"

She shakes her head as if she can't bear to say it. "Let us talk more in private. Ride with me."

I follow Sif back to the palace, where she's quick to stable her horse and even quicker to pull me into her chamber.

Her room looks almost identical to mine, but her's is decorated in spoils of war. Trophies, shields, and swords take up one wall while chalices, platters, and art take up another. It's all very delicate, especially from a warrior's standards. Perhaps delicateness the trait of such a strong woman.

Just as the door shuts behind me, she allows herself to anguish. Tears stream down Sif's face, and she falls against her dining table. What must've happened to cause this warrior so much grief? Her formidable, hard appearance has been torn to shatters. All that remains is a heartbroken girl.

"Sif, what happened on Vanaheim? Is everyone still alive?"

"Alive?" She questions. "Everyone is fine! Everyone is wonderful, Sigyn. Especially Thor. He's wonderful without me."

"Without you?" I sit beside her, placing my hand on her arm.

She squeezes my hand with her own. "Yes. He's– he's with another now."

"Another woman?"

Sif nods, attempting to pull herself back together. Her crying ceases, and her face turns to stone. She's correcting herself. She's reminding herself that a warrior does not cry at a broken heart.

The woman I dreamt of was leading an army. She wasn't swooning a mere prince. My nerves relax, but only slightly.

"How did he meet her?"

"She was at a tavern where we were resting. I normally stand by when Thor gets enthralled with shiny, mortal things but she is nothing of the sort. She's beautiful, and she's an Asgardian. If he falls in love with her, there's nothing keeping them from being together for the rest of their very long lives."

"And if they do, you'll have to watch. You won't be able to protest to a king."

"Precisely. I can't watch him do that, besides we were so close. We–" She stops herself mid-sentence, ashamed at her openness.

"You can tell me," I say. "I also understand the affairs of the heart quite well."

Sif manages only the smallest of smiles, but it's enough to keep her talking. "We were planning to approach Odin with the idea of our courtship."

My mouth falls agape. Courtship is the means to an end. Courting is only done when two palace royals confess their undying love for each other. Courting is the process that leads to official matrimony. Sif would have to go through a rigorous process to become a princess of Asgard, much like myself. She could very well lose her warrior status, but that she would do it for Thor is enough to tell me of her unconditional love for him. She would surrender her identity if it meant she got to show her love. It reminds me of Frigga.

"And what, he met her only a few hours ago?"

"Only this morning! As soon as she said his name, he was enthralled with her. He was unable to fight by himself all day. All he could think of was that wretched woman."

I ponder the experience. I don't believe in love at first sight, so I don't believe Thor has abandoned his love for Sif if it's a true one.

"And it wasn't just him, Sigyn," Sif continues. "Everyone was enamored with her as soon as she spoke to them."

"Loki too?" It's unlike the prince to be caught up in anything other than his books.

"Yes. Each of our friends fell over her feet as if she was some Valkyrie sent to rescue their souls from battle. It was disgusting. Even Odin fell prey to her trap."

Even the All-Father? What of Frigga?

"What about you? What did she do to you?"

"Oh, she wouldn't look at me. This witch refused even to make eye contact with me."

"Did you catch her name?"

"Lorelei."

* * *

**A NORDIC FUN FACT OF THE DAY:** It's debated if Nanna is actually a sister of Sigyn or not, but for this story, I'm counting her as one of Freya's many daughters. She's the goddess of joy and peace, though her fate is anything but that. It's said that she died of a broken heart after her husband died. It's bittersweet that she appears in Sigyn's dreams.


	7. Chapter 7

Our friends return only a day after they left. Odin stays in Vanaheim to work out the peace with my mother. The war against my home is over. The Jotnar fully retreat from their attack. I should be rejoicing. After all, I did assist in the victory in some twisted way. But even with the feasts and treasures and riches that Asgard receives, I'm not feeling festive.

Not only do I feel deceived by the high council, but I also can't stand to watch Lorelei enthrall a room with a mere word. She was hanging off of Thor's and Volstagg's arm when they returned. Hogun, Fandral, and even Loki crowded around her. It's like they can't bear to be separated from her.

She's gorgeous just as Sif described. Her hair is a bright red, matching her constantly puckered lips. Lorelei has all of Asgard's men at her beck and call. Even Mimir stays to her side thanks to the help of a servant. She tells stories of her travels through the nine realms. Each story has a detail to hold the specific attention of each man. I don't know how she knows it, but she certainly uses it to her advantage.

Frigga, Sif, and I are left with the other women at the far end of the feasting table. The boys climb over each other simply to smell her perfume. Sif is destroyed by the attention she's getting from Thor, of course. He hasn't spoken to her at all since they returned. She's even gone out of her way to dress in more feminine attire, though I assure her that her dress is not the problem.

What astounds me is how she was Loki wrapped around her finger as well. The younger prince who typically sticks to his mother's side is now stuck to the side of Lorelei. It's an offensive sight, seeing him so smitten with a woman.

Even Frigga is unsure of this new guest. She's demanded Lorelei's servants to provide citizenship and proof of her travels and alignment. They've been able to come up with nothing and Thor won't allow for her departure. Wherever Lorelei goes, all of our friends are sure to follow. They sleep together and they wake together. Everything in between is spent together, too. This goes on long past the three days of fasting.

Lorelei continues Asgard's festivities through an entire week. She seems to love the attention. Sif's heart crushes in Lorelei's palms as time goes on. She returns to her normal attire and keeps to the training arena. The warrior doesn't eat, or if she does, she hasn't eaten in the main feasting hall. She doesn't sleep, either. I hear the clanking of her sword long after the night has fallen.

"So Lorelei," I say one evening as the feasting begins. "What did you think of Vanaheim?"

"It was rather dull, really. Loki, dear. Won't you braid my hair?"

"It would be my pleasure." The younger prince stands to her side and deftly braids her hair as we speak.

A flare rises in my chest. Why do I feel like she's doing this to get on my nerves?

"Oh?"

"Yeah," she says through a dreamy sigh. "I mean, it was mainly trees and books. What's so special about that?"

"Nothing!" Hogun is eager to agree.

Again, my nerves are pricked. Hogun loves Vanaheim. He rejoices in learning of its deep history. He loves it almost as much as I do.

"And how is Asgard treating you?"

She removes her elegant, silk shawl to reveal carefully carved, porcelain shoulders. The boys go wild at her undress. "Oh, it's most wonderful. Much better than Vanaheim. Here there's enough luxury to fill a lifetime. Isn't that what we all really want, dear?"

"I believe that's all that the shallow want, yes."

Lorelei lines the edge of her chalice with her forefinger. "Yes, well at least some of us can afford to think that way. Your mommy could. That's why you were the one she sacrificed to Odin." She leans forward. "You're at our mercy, little Sigyn. You can't afford to think... at all."

Fury boils underneath my skin. I storm from the feasting hall before she has another chance to solidify my rage. I speed up to my room before a palace dweller can grab my attention. I don't want to be around anyone. My patience is short and my temper is flared. I practice my best archery on a throw pillow.

It's this rage that my mother would be proud of. A mother that somehow picked me to carry on the Vanir name, even in the heart of Asgard. She didn't sacrifice me to be a prisoner here. She chose me for my strength. Mother knew of my loyalty to Vanaheim. She chose me because she understood that I could handle it.

Right?

After a majority of my decorations are thoroughly decimated with arrows, I push back the white curtains and open the glass doors that lead out onto my balcony.

My room overlooks the marketplace. At the very edge of the horizon, I can faintly make out the ocean that surrounds Asgard. The stars shine as brightly and distant as they always do. The marketplace has shut down for the night. The only lights are from midnight oils throughout village homes. It's quiet out tonight.

I lean against the rail, feeling the curve of my bow and longing to be far away from the palace. I'd rather be home but if I can't have that, I still want to get away from Lorelei's stench. My disgust for her knows no bounds.

I can't imagine how Sif feels. At least I wasn't planning to court her right-hand-man. I don't blame the warrior for her isolation. I would do the same thing.

Maybe that's how Lorelei operates. Maybe she's planning the poison the hearts of Asgard's women. It's certainly worked.

"Sigyn!"

My heart pounds at the sudden, loud voice. In a fluid motion, I load an arrow against the string of the bow and aim it at whoever's decided to take residence on my balcony.

Loki raises his hands in innocence. I drop my weapon.

"What are you doing here? Don't you have some redhead to be pining over?"

The prince is frantic, sweating, even twitching. His fingers contort in unruly positions. I know I'm new to magic, but it looks like Loki's casting a spell.

"You must listen to me, Sigyn. Lorelei is a sorceress. She's enchanting men by saying their name. We are all under her control."

My coffee irises narrow. It makes sense that she's not just wooing her way into the palace. It also clears up why Lorelei's not looking to gain the favor of the women. It's because she doesn't have power over them, so she's not trying to playing perfection. She's become cocky in her power.

"And you? Why are you here, then? How do I know she didn't send you here to tell me this?"

"Because I'm not under her control. Not right now, anyway."

"Why?"

"My mind is protected from spells and the prying of others, or so I thought. She caught me off-guard but her enthrallment only lasts a few hours before she must renew it. It's only a matter of time before she realizes I've left."

"And when she realizes it?"

"I suspect she'll put me back under her spell," he says, horrified at the thought. "You must listen to me."

Loki grabs my shoulders, forcing me to look him in the eyes. They're tinted with a dark green haze. His are normally light, like jade. His eyes fluctuate between emerald and jade at the twisting of his hands.

"Lorelei has men all throughout the nine realms. From Jotunheim to Vanaheim and now in Asgard. She's kept Odin away to sneak to Asgard. She keeps her control through Heimdall, who keeps the borders closed for her."

The severity of the situation sets in. This isn't some low-life witch at work. Lorelei is a woman intent on destroying everything she can get a hold of. Her next step must be taking over the nine realms. Lorelei is the woman in my dream. I saw this coming days ago, and so did the high council. Now, they're all useless thanks to her power.

"She's gathering an army to round up and murder every woman and child throughout the realms. Once you're all massacred, there's nothing keeping her from the devotion and riches she seeks. You have to stop this from happening."

"Me?" I push away from his grasp. "You can't stand me! Why didn't you go to your mother about this?"

"Lorelei would see it coming. Thor told her of my distaste for you and my love for her. Sif is under close watch, too. She's delighting in her heartbreak. That's why I had to come to you. You're the only one she hasn't thought of."

It silences my words and thoughts. In my weakness, we've found an advantage. When I speak again, I can only muster a whisper.

"So what am I to do?"

"Lorelei is planning to bring her army from the nine realms. She'll be waiting for it at the Bifrost tomorrow. You must stop her before can bring her men over. Tell my mother to gather as many women as she can. Lorelei is planning to use us for protection tomorrow. Make sure you bring Sif. She's the only warrior strong enough to hold Thor off while you silence Lorelei."

"We can't fight all of you," I protest, shouldering my bow. "We're– I'm not strong enough."

"You have to be. At her command, we won't hesistate to kill you."

* * *

**A NOT NORDIC FUN FACT OF THE DAY:** Lorelei actually has a role in the Marvel Cinematic Universe and is not a character of Nordic myth. She can be seen a few episodes in Season 1 of Agents of Shield, a TV show canon to the MCU. Sif actually makes an appearance on it. These couple of chapters set up those episodes.


	8. Chapter 8

Loki leaves before Lorelei can catch onto his absence. As soon as he drops from the balcony, I spring into action. A war is coming to Asgard. There's no time to waste. I run through the corridor, landing at Sif's door first. I pound on the large metal doors until the sleepy warrior answers.

"Sigyn? Is everything alright?"

"You must come with me. Get your armor and take your sword."

My urgency wakes her up without delay. She disappears into her room and returns only a few moments later.

"What's going on?"

"I have no time to explain. We must get to Frigga."

And we must do it quickly. Lorelei's already begun preparations around the palace. Guards under her spell patrol the hall, looking for anyone stepping out of line. Sif directs us down the main living hall, where Thor and the witch can be heard through his closed door.

The warrior doesn't falter in her stride. In fact, she only picks up her pace. She guides me down the right hall and finally upon the king's chambers, where three female guards watch over the sleeping queen.

"What business do you have? The queen is sleeping."

"We have urgent news regarding her sons."

At that, we're allowed through. Frigga doesn't look like she's slept all night. She's still in her evening gown, staring outside of her own bedroom window. In my franticness, I find myself at a pause. Is she looking at the same stars that I am? Is she wishing to be back home?

"My daughters," she says, "what are you doing here?"

"Lorelei is planning an attack on Asgard."

"The witch! I knew she was up to something."

"Sorcery?" The queen asks.

I nod. Afterward, I give the quick retelling of my interaction with Loki.

"What shall we do? If Lorelei summons her army, Asgard will surely fall."

Frigga thinks for a moment, pacing around her room. "We must keep this a secret. Telling anyone, even a woman, can result in leaking her secret back to her. The three of us will travel to the Bifrost as soon as the sun starts to rise. We will hold off our boys until Lorelei will be silenced."

"How can we silence her?"

"There's a device in Asgard's prison. Sigyn, travel there. It looks like a necklace with a purple gem. Once it's placed around her neck, she will no longer be able to speak and her spell will be broken. Sif, you and I must prepare for the battle that lays ahead. Come with me to the armory. We shall meet back up at the Rainbow Bridge at dawn. Understood?"

"Yes, Your Majesty."

We split up just as reach the lowest floor. Sif and Frigga speed through the west corridor while I'm left to brave the prison by myself. Asgard's prison is notorious for holding the worst criminals. Those who've attempted genocide, war generals, gods and goddesses who somehow got on Odin's bad side, they're all here. Most likely, they're all under Lorelei's control.

Armed with my bow, I begin the descent into the dark depths of the golden realm. It's like night down here, lit only by carefully placed torches. The prison sits in a large box-like structure. It's surrounded by a pit of nothingness. If someone were to escape, a failsafe would push them into the abyss below.

I step into the prison slowly, making sure to check every corner before proceeding. I creep silently through the main hall, thanks to my shoelessness. The necklace comes into view once I reach the edge of the prison. It hangs along a wall with other artifacts and shackles for criminals.

I take it in my hand and secure it around my shoulder. Just as I do, the lights shut off in the prison cells. Red alarms flash and sound overhead. Someone's opening all of the cells.

I don't have time to think further. I dash off in the same way that I came. Roars and screams of the freed criminals follow me. I hear their stomping and fighting just behind.

My feet sprint faster than they ever have once I reach the staircase that leads back up to the palace. If the prison is open, guards will have the duty of closing off every door from here to the queen's bedroom, leaving me trapped with Asgard's worst prisoners. I'm only a few steps from the top when I stumble over a foot.

I roll on my side, loading my bow. A blonde woman dressed in all green smiles at me. She has the same kind of smile as Lorelei.

"Oops." She presses a finger to her lips. "Did I do that?"

I would debate shooting an arrow into her eye, but I don't have the time to. I pick myself up and get back into a sprint. Thankfully, none of the doors have been closed by the time I get back to the main floor. I go out through the west hall where Bygul's waiting for me. Frigga must've known.

The cat takes off just as soon as I mount him. In the distance, the sun begins to peek through the jagged horizon. My time is short if it hasn't run out already. We speed through the marketplace, forest, and finally the plains of this new home.

Frigga and Sif are both waiting for me at the tip of the bridge. The warrior is dressed in her normal attire, but now she has multiple weapons hidden in every crevasse of her body. I would do the same if I had to face off against the prince of thunder. Frigga is also clothed in battle armor, much like the kind of armor my people would wear. It only makes sense that she's the most comfortable in it. Like Loki, her fingers also contort in ungodly ways. She's crafting spells of protection over us. She has a sword and multiple daggers sheathed in a belt along her waist.

I'm the least prepared. I have no armor, just the yellow evening gown I was wearing before. Except now it's tattered and torn by the events of this morning. I send Bygul back to the palace, despite his meows of protest. No matter what, I can't lose him.

Lorelei and her guard of princes and warriors are already at the arrival point. I load my bow once Frigga gives us the okay to advance. As we pass through the entry, the queen creates a barrier. There will be no escaping this fight.

Fandral, Hogun, and Volstagg advance before Thor and Loki. They attack with all the skill and technique they acquired over the years. Sif goes sword to axe with Volstagg, who quickly loses his ground thanks to her speed. Hogun takes for Frigga, who uses her magic to throw him against the boundary she created, knocking him unconscious. Fandral approaches me, unsheathing his sword. I aim for his shoulder.

"I don't want to hurt you Sigyn, but I will if I must."

"Then don't." Frigga appears behind him, striking him in the back of the neck and sending him to the ground.

The brothers emerge onto the bridge now. Lightning brims from Thor's eyes as thunder follows him like a disciple. His mighty hammer waves in his hand, signaling the god's attack. As he charges, Sif's steel shield takes the brunt of his force.

"Go, Sigyn!"

This isn't anything she's prepared for. I can't imagine Sif ever thinking about needing to defend her homeland from her lover. It sickens me. She pulls her punches, taking a hit from Thor's fist.

I push past their battle to witness Frigga taking on all three of the young warriors, two of which have woken with the fury of Lorelei herself. She holds off Fandral and Volstagg with spurts of seidr while battling Hogun sword to mace with the talent of a true goddess.

Lorelei is only a few hundred feet ahead. I see her speaking to the gatekeeper. She's encouraging him to open the Bifrost to her multitude of men. As I'm about to reach her, Loki comes steps into my path. Daggers line each of his fingers.

"You're not getting past me, Sigyn."

I load an arrow and he throws a knife. I dodge to the right. It only knicks the side of my cheek, drawing a drop of fresh, red blood. I roll to the left and aim. Again, he throws. This time I jump forward, hoping to tackle the prince to the ground.

The image of Loki fades and I land hard on my knees. He appears behind me, sticking a knife straight through my hand. My scream rattles the metal frames of the bridge. The loud noise distracts the prince and grabs the attention of my enemy.

Pain shakes me to the core. My entire body feels hot all at once. Anguish and torture shoot up my arm. A plan of self-preservation doesn't come to me. No thoughts do. Nothing but the pain takes up my mind.

Lorelei approaches, jerking the knife from my hand. Blood spurts from the appendage. Everything from my fingers to my wrist is covered in sticky crimson liquid. She takes the bow from the ground and cracks it in half.

"You were so close, little Sigyn. Tell me, why do you even want to save these people?" She kneels to my height, tilting my chin with the dagger. "They are your keepers! They stole you away. Why would you want to save them?"

I don't have an answer. Why do I want to save them? Do I truly care for these Aesir who I only met a few months ago? Odin's policies disgust me. The Asgardian way of life is revolting. The Aesir have suppressed and isolated my people for centuries! Why would I want to help them?

The sorceress laughs at my silence and stands once more.

"Loki, your friends seem to be struggling with your mother. Why don't you kill her?"

Without question, Loki makes a desperate run for Frigga. Lorelei leaves me to rot on the ground, returning to her post with Heimdall. I gather whatever strength I have left and chase after the dark-headed prince.

If Loki kills her, he will never forgive himself. I can't let him do that.

"Sigyn!" Sif yells from the ground. Thor has her pinned the ground, ready to kill. "Finish this!"

I won't make it back to her in time. My two allies will be killed if I try to make it back without stopping the princes.

I have to try. I have to do something. I turn on my heels and back towards the sorceress. Seeing my diversion, Loki turns too. Protecting Lorelei must be his first order. Killing his mother is secondary.

I form the symbol of life over my head. Think of something false. Think of Lorelei. The symbol of death falls over my chest. Think of something true. I think of Sif. What do I want to do? I want to silence Lorelei. I want the power she has to be broken. I spread my arms with the symbol of truth, but my hand is broken. Some other symbol is crafted.

Light emits from my chest. I see Lorelei try to speak, but she chokes on her words. A great force of power pushes me. I tumble backward. In a single motion, I throw the necklace to Sif who lunges high in the air to catch it. My vision is fading. I'm falling I think. Gravity pushes against my bones.

Loki's free from the spell. The jade has returned to his eyes. He reaches for my bloody hand, but I slip out of his grip and land headfirst in the icy ocean below.

* * *

**A NORDIC FUN FACT OF THE DAY:** Frigga is oftentimes theorized to be the same entity of Freya in Nordic myth. Freya is said to have brought the gods the gift of seidr. I took that little bit of trivia and applied it to Frigga, who taught Loki (one of the best sorcerers in the MCU) the fundamentals of magic.


	9. Chapter 9

"Is how you thought you would die, sister?"

"Nanna?"

"Yes?"

"Why are you here?"

I see her before me. She sits cross-legged and shrouded in darkness. When I open my eyes to make her image more clear, she disappears. Reality takes her place. The light of Asgard's sun drifts further and further away. When I close them again, she appears.

"In your final moments, you called out to the worlds seeking comfort, so I'm here. I will sit with you until your time is over," she pauses. "You should be thankful, Sigyn."

"For what?"

"There are worse ways to die."

"Such as?"

"Alone."

"I am alone, Nanna. You're not really here."

"You're correct. I am not. Feel your heart."

I press my hand against my heart. My chest rises and falls as normal, even though I'm far under the water.

"Why can I still breathe?"

"The prince has placed a hex on you. He's put his air in your lungs and has traded it for the water in yours. He kneels on the surface, drowning in your stead."

"Loki? He's doing it for me?"

"He feels what you feel, and I wonder in all of his wondrous magic if he can hear me, too... However, his breath must give way soon, and it's only a matter of time before you're swept over the fall. Then you'll be lost to the abyss. There will be no rescue there."

I'm not sure which fate is worse.

"Do you feel that?" She asks.

"No."

"Correct. The queen is using her Vanir magic to cease the movement of the seas while her other son searches for you. With his hammer, he flies through the waters checking every crevasse for a sign of your body."

"But he hasn't found me yet."

"That's right," she nods. "And he might not. Not in time, at least. His mother's spirit is surrounded by exhaustion. Loki's harboring death. How long do you suspect they'll last?"

I swallow hard. It can't be long now.

So, I sit with her. I cross my legs as she does, and I prepare for the arrival of a Valkyrie.

"Do you think they're as wonderful as Mother always said?"

"I've no doubt."

A hand grips my own. Nanna vanishes from my sight. The pain of water inhalation fills my lungs. Strong arms wrap around my frame, lifting back up the surface.

"Mother, I found her!"

Frigga releases the ocean, collapsing to the ground as she does. Loki's beside her, catching his breath.

"Take her to the healer," The queen says. "Do not wait for us."

Whatever takes place after that is a hazy blur. Bits of the afternoon remain intact, but a majority of it is lost to unconsciousness. Eir appears the most. She hovers over me for most of the evening and night. She bandages my hand, cleans my cut and helps the water out of my lungs.

Frigga, Thor, Sif, and even Loki come to check on my progress, or so I think. Their words and whispers go unheard to my ears. Nurses and handmaidens take vitals every so often. Others perform shamanic rituals to encourage the healing process.

Pain is the constant among it all. My body shakes from coughing violently and I can't even move my hand. Everything in my body screams out for relief that takes many hours to come. It's dawn by the time the immediate, sharp pain goes away. What's left is a dull reminder of the battle.

As awareness comes upon me, a nurse grabs the healer. Eir checks my bandages before allowing me to sit up.

"Do it slowly. Don't hurt yourself more."

I do as she says, taking my time to prop against the headboard.

"How do you feel? What's your pain level at?"

"I– I don't know," I say. "I don't feel much of anything right now."

"Well, you will. It's only a matter of time before your nerve endings wake up. Let me know when you need more medication. I can give you some before I let you go."

I eat the nasty breakfast of medicine-filled oatmeal she's prepared for me. Once Eir is satisfied with the amount I've consumed, she watches me walk around the room. She must be making sure I don't have any excess water trapped in my lungs.

"So, what's the plan?" I file my working hand through my dirty, sea-washed hair. "When can I start back with my regular duties?"

"A few days, but you will have restraints. You are not to carry books, train, or even write with your band hand until I clear you. Have that boy carry them for you."

"What boy?"

The brunette goddess raises her brow. "The one– the prince who's come to see you. He insists on checking your condition every day."

But why? He couldn't tolerate me until everything happened with Lorelei. Now he's taking in my death sentence and checking up on me? It doesn't make sense and I don't like it. He's planning something. Speaking of Lorelei...

"Has Lorelei been apprehended?"

"Oh, the witch? Yes. Odin has her locked her away with Sif's help. What a brave soul, that girl!"

I agree, but what exactly is she talking about? Didn't I have just as much of a part in Lorelei's apprehension? Didn't Frigga? Those memories must be hazy, too.

"Right. I'm so proud of her."

"Odin is holding a feast tonight in her honor. I'm clearing you to attend. However, there's to be no dancing and take it easy on the drinking, alright?"

"Yes, ma'am."

"I want you to report back to me every day after breakfast, lunch, and dinner. Take these pills every four hours." Eir hands me a box of specially crafted capsules that hold a minuscule potion in each one. "You're a healthy young Vanir woman. I've no doubt you'll fully recover, but you must take things slow. I want you to rest as much as you can. I'll assign a nurse to check in on you throughout the night, and I'll also find you an escort so you don't go anywhere alone."

"I could be her escort," a familiar voice chimes at the door. "She's my closest friend. Who better than me to care for her?"

"Young lady! Don't you have a crowning to be preparing for?"

"What's the point of all this if I'm not going to help the friend who got me here?"

"Sif." I embrace her through metal armor. "It's good to see you."

"And you, Sickling. Let's get you to bed. Thanks again, Eir."

The warrior stands shoulder to shoulder with me, slowly making our way down the hall. I thought I would be able to pick up my pace in no time, but apparently, that's not the case. When breathing hurts, everything hurts– even walking.

"So what is all this about you being crowned?" I ask through a pant.

"I'm not really being 'crowned' so to speak. I'm still no princess, but Odin has seen fit to grant me divination."

The mortals on Midgard already worship the Asgardians as gods and goddesses if they're well known. However, it takes the All-Father's blessing to truly grant god or goddess status. This ordeal with Lorelei might've been the final push Odin needed to give that divinity to Sif.

"Divination? That's amazing. What is the fair maiden Sif to be the goddess of?"

She smiles a large, smug smile. Her shoulders bow up in pride. "War."

"What an honor," I say through a laugh. "How do you feel, Goddess of War?"

"Proud. Rejuvenated. With this blessing, now I could live as long as Thor. Although the life of a warrior is often a short one."

"How are things with him? Back to normal now that Lorelei's gone?"

"Not quite," she confesses. "Something's odd about him. I can't tell what it is. He's different now. Distant, even."

"Perhaps he just needs to clear his head after that witch took a hold of it. Give him time. He'll come back around."

"They always do."

We make small conversation through the rest of the walk. Apparently, a rumor spread that Sif was the one to orchestrate Lorelei's capture and that's why Eir was singing her praises. It's also why Odin's granting her divination tonight.

I'm nothing but overjoyed for her. She's worked so hard to come this far, Sif deserves this recognition. I will be applauding for her louder than anyone tonight.

Throughout the day, I do as Eir commands. I make sure to rest, take my medicine, and take things especially slow. My choices are limited. When I normally would be shooting or training seidr, I have to spend it trapped on my sofa. Thankfully, Mimir is gracious enough to send an errand boy to deliver my homework for the next couple of days.

Homework that seems to lessen with every day. It reminds me of how close to maturity we are. Soon, we'll complete our courses. Thor will be coronated. Loki will remain in his place as a prince. Sif will serve as Queen, I'm sure. Fandral, Hogun, and Volstagg will all take their positions on the king's guard, advisory team and perhaps even ambassador.

Where will I end up? Will I be cast off as a palace dweller?

I cannot let that happen. I have come too far to be used as nothing but a trophy. I could become the bridge between Vanaheim and Asgard. Or, I could study under Eir. Surely, she would take a young, wise Vanir like myself. Or maybe I should learn from Mimir. He could teach me the ways of sorcery and I can be Asgard's new prophet.

The unwritten future makes my conversation with Nanna even more shaking. I shouldn't have seen her, but I did. My elder sister has been dead since before I left Vanaheim. She died of a broken heart after the death of her husband. Her future was written and completed by the hands of men. I will not suffer the same fate.

* * *

**A KINDA NORDIC FUN FACT OF THE DAY:** Freya is the queen of the Valkyries. Valkyries are female figures that choose who will live and who will die in battle. They also escort the slain warriors to Valhalla. This also means that Valkyrie (Thor: Ragnarok) probably knew and highly respected Sigyn's mom.


	10. Chapter 10

Sif brings over her servants to get ready with me before the event.

"Are you nervous, friend?"

I slip on my gown; a dress that was requested to be worn by the queen, herself.

"I suppose so," she says. "Wouldn't you be?"

"Well, of course."

This gown is not from Frigga. She would never make me wear such a thing. This is someone else's doing. It's gorgeous, but I would never wear such a light pink. The sleeves have two small holes in them so I can fit my thumb and fingers through. The dress hides everything I love about my body, and then some. Whoever picked out the dress wanted to keep from showing anything desirable.

It makes me look like a child. Next to Sif in an elegant, deep blue dress with a slit up the leg, I look like someone's annoying little sister. Her servants curl her hair so that it drips down her chest in thick waves. Mine pull my hair up, securing it with pins.

The royal officials might want Sif to shine spectacularly during her night of praise. I understand that. Why dress me in such a hideous thing? Can I not look my age next to her? Can I not show off the wounds I received in battle?

At the edge of the feasting room, a servant instructs that I'm to enter the room before Sif. Despite her loud protests, I do as I'm told. This must be how the rest of my life will go. Even the servants will tell me what to do on behalf of Odin. Aside from keeping the treaty, I must only be here to glorify the Aesir.

My heart sinks once I walk through the glass doors. The room is filled to the brim with Aesir and Asgardians that I've never even seen in the palace before. All eyes are on me and not in a good way. Panic starts to set in. I can't find anyone that I recognize. Even just meeting a gaze with Fandral or Volstagg would ease my nerves, but I can't find any of my friends. What am I to–

A loud cough grabs my attention. Loki and I lock eyes. He motions to an empty seat to his left. It takes all of my strength to keep from running to that chair on the opposite side of the room. But I do. I keep my calm as I've been taught.

"Welcome to the real war," he says.

"Real war?" I ask, breathless.

"The battlefield is only the precursor to the true bloodshed. Here, they will chew you up and spit you out before you have time to blink." He examines my attire up and down. "It seems you've already been set up for the slaughter."

"I don't want to talk about it."

The embarrassment can't be hidden. My cheeks are hot to the touch, and I'm sinking further and further into my seat by the second.

"All rise."

The flutters in my stomach turn to violent kicks. I don't want to stand up, but I must. I want to retire to my room and pray this is all a nightmare.

From the other side of Loki, Thor shoots me a look that asks if I'm okay. He must not know about his father's doing. He must not understand that my life is at stake. Loki was right, this is the real battle. This is where I prove my strength and will to survive.

I can hear the snickers and comments of Asgardian officials behind me. They comment on my ugliness. Some of them even bash my people for my choice in attire. Every second of it is an unfair massacre. It burns my chest.

Sif finally steps into the room looking like a true goddess among peasants. Comments from the Asgardians shift in a moment. Everyone is enthralled with the warrior forged goddess. They keep their opinions loud long after she takes the chair to my side.

We stay standing for the entrance of the king and queen who elicits a thunderous applause from the party-goers. Their people are smiling. They clap for their benevolent rulers. Everything is bright and untouchable in their world.

I'm the only one who isn't grinning from ear to ear. My lips are hardened into a permanent scowl. My mother wouldn't take such a public humiliation, so why should I? Fists clench together under the table. The tips of my fingernails dig into the skin on my palm. My injured hand screams for relief, but I don't release my hands until the feast is over.

We then gather together in the ballroom for the official ceremony. Odin stands at the top of a set of golden stairs. Frigga is just to his side. Thor and Loki take their respective places on either side of their parents a few steps down. Hogun, Volstagg, and Fandral stand on the three lower steps to Thor's left. I'm told to stand a step to Loki's lower-right.

Once again, I'm put on display.

Sif bows before Odin, crossing her arm over her chest.

"Sif," the All-Father begins, drawing a sword and placing it on her left shoulder, "The Great Warrior, Sister of Heimdall, Daughter of Asgard, and closest friend of my firstborn. You have become family to Frigga and myself. To grant you divination tonight is truly an honor."

She smiles up at him with tears glistening in her eyes.

"Your display of bravery in the wake of battle has brought you here. Without your wisdom and strategy, Asgard would have fallen to the hands of Lorelei. We are all grateful for your acts of duty and selflessness."

An applause roars from the crowd.

"For these acts, I grant you the title of goddess." He raises the sword and places it on her other shoulder. "With divination comes the responsibility of using your gifts for the good the nine realms. Do you swear to use your knowledge and power responsibly?"

"I swear."

"And do you swear to the warrior's oath? With this oath, you shall put the needs of Asgard ahead of your own. You commit to your homeland, swearing to protect Asgard with your life even in the face of death."

"I swear."

"Then I shall give you knowledge." He sheathes the sword and puts a hand on her forehead. Next, he secures her hand in his own. "And I give you life. By the power of myself and my fathers before me, I announce you as Sif, Goddess of War. Rise, young goddess!"

Cheers and wild cries flood from the mass with Thor as the loudest of them all. Along with the Asgardians, I also rejoice for the new goddess. What a dear friend to me she's become. Even if my light must be dimmed to fuel hers, I could not be happier for her.

Tears stream down her face when she turns to the audience. The goddess raises her fists in the air, reveling in her victory. She runs into the arms of her brother, whose volume is only second to Thor.

Music cues up from the live band. Now it's time to praise the new goddess with dance and drink. As customary, Sif will have the displeasure of dancing with every single party attendee before the night is over. Thor gets the first one, of course.

I'm especially thankful for the occasion and try to stay glued to the balcony as much as possible. Nobody will want to dance with me tonight. Besides, it goes against Eir's demands. I have a perfect excuse to get out of it.

Embarrassment continues to boil my blood. Anger eventually fades away and a desire to cry takes its place. I shouldn't indulge in such an activity in such a public place. Nasty rumors are sure to spread. Silent tears protrude anyway.

"If I was dressed like that, I would probably cry, too."

I wipe the tears on the sleeve of my dress. "You were willing to die for me. Why?"

"Wouldn't you like to know."

"That's why I'm asking. I don't know what you have planned Odinson, but today is not a good day to test me."

"Planned?" He jerks back, offended. "I've got nothing planned, no ulterior motives, nothing like that. Not this time."

This time? "How can I trust you?"

Loki sets his horned helm on the ground beside the railing. "I just wanted to save your life. There's nothing more to it, Sigyn."

The way he says my name isn't harsh or venomous as it has been. It's gentle– kind, even. It makes my stomach tumble.

"I– Well, thank you. No one else would've done such a thing for me."

"Shall we dance?" The prince extends his hand to me.

"I'm not going back in there."

"That's fine."

Cautiously, I take his hand with my healed one. On his lead, we begin to move back and forth across the balcony. We dance slowly, with the music. Eir's demand certainly shouldn't apply to this dance. I feel as though I'm floating. My feet can't be touching the ground.

"How's the hand?" He finally asks.

"Getting better I think."

"Sorry about all that," Loki says. "I certainly didn't want for you to get hurt."

"It's not your fault. Lorelei wanted to hurt me. There was no way you could've stopped it."

He shakes his head. "Without you, she would be unstoppable. Without you, Sif would be dead and I would've killed my own mother at her command."

"It's no–"

The prince stops in his tracks. He grips my hand tightly. "I'm trying to say thank you. You're the one who deserves the praise tonight, not them."

And strangely, that's sufficient to quiet my anger. I don't want to burn Asgard to the ground or show Odin just how he's wrong. Loki's acknowledgment feels like enough. My desire for justice remains, but the recognition of the Aesir is worthless to me. I don't value their plastic worship. What do I need of plastic, anyway?

* * *

**A NORDIC FUN FACT OF THE DAY:** Norse Sif is actually not the goddess of war at all. She has bright golden hair and is a symbol of fruitful harvest. As much as I like Norse lore, I gotta give this one to Marvel. I'm here for my warrior queen.


	11. Chapter 11

The night ends rather abruptly, or so it feels. The prince and I wait out the crowd until we're sure that most everyone has left. The few that remain are too drunk to remember the evening or they're our friends... who are also intoxicated.

Fandral has a woman on either side of his lap. He retells of the valiant battle in Vanaheim, except he repeats the same bit over and over. Not that the girls mind, for they're just as wasted as he is. Volstagg's all but passed out. He consumes one last leg of beast seemingly in his sleep. Hogun is nowhere to be found. This is typical of him, who prefers to do his drinking alone. Thor and Sif aren't present, either. I can only assume they're celebrating her divination privately.

Loki guides us through the hidden passages of the palace; the ones only the princes get to use. They're meant for invasions or if Asgard ever falls under siege, but he's kind enough to let me utilize them so I'm not in the public eye anymore.

"You never did answer my question."

"What question?" He leans against my doorway, propping his helm on his hip.

"Why were you prepared to die in my stead? Nanna said–"

Shock turns his pale face even more ghostly. "Nanna?"

"I know it's a crazy notion," I begin. "She's my sister. When I was dying, I saw her."

"I haven't heard that name in a long time." Loki trails off, lost in his own thoughts.

How does he know her name?

"Did you know my sister?"

The prince returns from his winding contemplation. The smile he possesses is a thin one. It's uneasy like he's hiding something. "I believe she was here some years ago. She did exactly what you're doing now. After she died, the treaty was broken."

The treaty had been fulfilled before? That must be what kept the Jotnar out of Vanaheim to begin with. I was only a child when she died but I remember that after she passed, enemies started attacking Vanaheim. No one was successful until the Jotnar. Their invasion is why Mother sent me here. She thought she could protect our home by herself. She tried for many years. Sending me here must've been her final option.

"Sigyn? I'm sorry. I thought you knew all of this."

"No, it's okay," I say. "I'm glad someone's finally telling the truth."

With every new piece of information I get on the Aesir-Vanir past, the more my heart becomes confused. I thought my mother was a saint, but apparently, Odin isn't the only one to justify means to an end. Then I think it's the Aesir influence talking and not my true feelings.

"Why don't you keep your questions to me?"

"What?"

"Well, I could help clear things up for you. It seems both parties are keeping you in the dark. I can help you sort things out."

My whiskey hues narrow. "How do I know you're not going to feed me Asgardian propaganda?"

"I suppose you're going to have to trust me."

He's done so much for me already. What reason do I have not to trust him other than starting off on the wrong foot? More than that, what other choice do I have? Even Frigga and Hogun seem to drink from the Aesir cup. Loki doesn't.

"We'll see." The corners of my lips turn up into a smirk. "Goodnight, Loki."

He bows slightly at the waist. "Goodnight, Sigyn."

Closing the door behind me, I feel more relieved and awake than I ever have. I'm glad Loki left, but I also want to pull him back in and stay in his company for hours. It's a sickening feeling, being on good terms with him. He's not like anything I'd witnessed before, which might've just the consequence of a bad start.

That's what I tell myself. If I don't, I fear that suspicion of people will consume me. I feel it creeping in at the middle of the night. I worry that Loki's already told the All-Father of my treasonous words. My nerves stay constantly on edge, ready to fight my way out of Asgard if that's what it takes.

Perhaps that's partly Lorelei's fault. Even my own friends tried to kill me. Those who are not my friends are more than willing to tell of their venomous thoughts about me and my people. How could I not become wary of everyone around the palace?

Even more than that, doubt of my own mother's innocence creeps into my mind. She sent me here after my sister died. Nanna passed in Asgard, surrounded by the same people that I see every day. They act like she never existed. Mother acted like she never existed. No one spoke a word about her. The secrets my mother keeps must be those of bloodshed and betrayal. She's more than eager to tell me about the horrors of Asgard, but what of the horrors of Vanaheim?

What of the horrors of our family?

Snotra doesn't have to bother with waking me in the morning. I've been up for hours. With the amount of sweat pooled on my forehead, she insists I see Eir at once.

"I'm fine," I say, popping one of the pills into my mouth. "Just a little anxiety."

The servant makes sure I eat at least ten spoonfuls of eggs and lamb before I'm released to see Eir. The healer rebandages my wounds, prescribes some more medication and sends me on my way. Hogun catches up with me in the hallway.

"You know you're not supposed to be carrying those." He practically rips the books from my hand. "If you do not follow orders, you will not get better."

"Thanks."

"I just want to say that what you did for Asgard was truly brave. You were such a warrior when Lorelei attacked. We would've fallen without you."

"You have no need to thank me," I say. "It was what had to be done."

"I just hope credit is given where credit is due."

He has no idea.

We enter the class and he sets my books on the empty desk beside Loki.

"How was your night?"

"Better than their's," I motion to the hungover, exhausted students behind us. "Yours?"

He laughs under his breath. "I'd say the same."

Mimir begins class as normal. We study history, mathematics, sciences, and language. Just before he dismisses us for lunch, he makes an announcement.

"I've received word from Odin to prepare you all for Thor's coronation. This means that your final projects will be coming up. Our class project will be preparing a tournament for the nine realms. You will work together to set-up and prepare Asgard for the event. This means that we will set up the arena, create the divisions and contests, find judges, and gather the contestants."

This grand tournament happens every time a new king takes Asgard's throne. Men and women from far and wide prepare all of their lives to face off in a grand battle. Whoever wins will be declared the most fearsome warrior until the next competition. Palace dwellers aren't allowed to participate, meaning that I don't have a chance to lose.

Laufey, King of Jotunheim won the last one.

"Thor, you will have the responsibility of visiting the realms to find worthy contestants. Sif will travel with you. Volstagg, Fandral, and Hogun, I want you to focus on setting up the arena and finding judges for the tournament. Sigyn and Loki, I want you to create divisions and contests."

Thor and Sif high-five in the background. The other three warriors are less than thrilled at having to a majority of the heavy lifting.

"As for your individual projects, I will assign those tomorrow morning. Don't forget that you must also pass a battle exam to graduate from my class."

I have everything else down, but the battle exam is enough to make the anxiety cause physical pain in my chest. I'm not ready to fight against the Asgardians. I couldn't even hold my own against Lorelei. If I don't pass this, I could be sent back to Vanaheim and another sister will have to take my place. Failing is not an option.

"After all of this, I will decide where you are best suited in the Asgardian ranks. Thor and Loki, your ranks are obvious. For everyone else, your destiny is unwritten. Make sure you take the next few weeks very seriously."

For everyone else, Mimir's words might be an encouragement to try their best to secure a good position. For me, it's sealing my fate among the Asgardian people. My dream of returning home slips further and further away with every day I spend here. I will die like my sister, surrounded by my enemies.

Loki and I meet up in the library after training, which I have to sit out of. I read through the traditional contests of the tournament while I wait for his arrival. Whatever medicine Eir gave me is starting to wear off. The pain slowly sinks into my hand, but I can't leave without telling my partner.

"So where shall we begin today? Divisions, contests, or perhaps some questions?" Loki picks out his own book of realm divisions before sitting next to me.

"Let's look at divisions," I say through clenched teeth.

"Are you feeling alright?"

"My hand is just aching. May I– Can I go get the medicine I need? I'll retu–"

"Follow me." He takes my good hand in his. With a wave of his open palm, he opens a portal surrounded by a light green haze. The portal leads to what I can only assume are his chambers. When we step through, the opening closes.

Loki's chamber is dark. His curtains are pitch black, as is most of his furniture. Bookshelves of spells and trickery take up a majority of his wall.

He stands directly in front of me with his hands held out. The prince motions for me to place my hands in his, palm up. Cautiously, I do so. Everything screams to back away, but I step forward. Loki tenderly unwraps the bandaging around the wound. Every wind of his hand pierces the nerve even more. It seems that even looking at it is causing it to sting.

Once it's unwrapped, I jerk my hand back. He's going to touch it, and it's going to hurt. Loki's about to injure the wound he caused even more!

"Do you trust me?" He asks, motioning for my cooperation once more.

I want to, but how can I? I nod through the lie and finally place my hand back on his.

Loki gently covers my wound with both of his hands. Emerald green magic seeps through his fingertips and into mine. The light from his seidr brightens his face. It's stone-like, unmoving and hard in the dim illumination. He's concentrating on something.

Just as I'm about to ask him what it is, the pain and the light fades away. My bones are pieced back together. My skin is woven and whole just as it was before. He's completely healed my hand in a matter of seconds.

Gratitude sinks into my soul as the awe fades. Some other feeling travels with it, but I can't seem to put my finger on it. Whatever it is, I'm not sure I like it.

* * *

**A NORDIC FUN FACT OF THE DAY:** Laufey is actually Loki's mother in Nordic lore. Farbauti is his father. I'm not sure why Marvel decided to change things up. Maybe they thought Laufey was a more masculine name? Anyways, I'm keeping with the Marvel portrayal for this story just so I don't confuse anyone.


	12. Chapter 12

"Why didn't you do that earlier?"

"Eir doesn't like it when I use my magic to heal," he explains. "She says it's unnatural."

"Well, she's must not have ever taken a knife to the hand," I say, following him back into the library. "She'd be begging for your unnatural healing."

We spend the afternoon working on our school project. I gather a list of the traditional contests, while he divides them by difficulty and talent. Every tournament is divided by realm and race. This makes the tournaments exclusive and divisive. Changing the divisions to classes of talent will make for a more well-rounded game.

By the time sun sets, we've nearly completed our part of the project. The only thing left to do is work out a few logistical events, and we're ready for the big game.

The tournament is the sole topic of conversation with anyone. It's all that's talked about at the dinner table. Those of us who are warriors complain about not being able to partake. Those who are not are just as vocal about the need to attend. Loki would much rather spend his time anywhere but the tournament.

Thor and Sif depart for the realms in the morning. Our other friends start by cleaning up the arena seating area. They spend all morning sweeping, wiping, and repainting the large wooden stands. Loki and I spend our morning in the library, again. Everything goes smoothly until Mimir decides to make an entrance.

"How's the project going, kids?"

"Ahead of schedule," Loki informs. "We should be done by this evening."

"That's great news because I've decided what your individual projects will be."

Here it comes. I brace myself for the worst.

"Sigyn, you will learn to harness your seidr. Loki, you will teach it to her."

Neither of us spares our laughs of ridiculousness.

"You must be joking."

"Not in the slightest. Sigyn, if you want to make your residence on Asgard worthwhile, you need to have something spectacular under your belt. This will be your Vanir-specific magic, not just the spell I taught you the other day. Loki, as Thor's right hand you will need the gift of teaching. You will have many people under you, looking to you for guidance."

"So what is she supposed to do, Mimir? Feed five thousand with a loaf of bread?"

"That's up to you two. Good luck."

Loki gnashes his teeth together, annoyed.

I'm just as frustrated as he is. Not that I'm minding Loki's company. Quite the opposite, really. I'm rather enjoying spending my time with the prince. He's blossomed from the bratty prince I first met into a kind, reserved soul.

"Okay," he says through clenched teeth after Mimir's head is taken away. "So after this, shall we begin your training?"

"Tired of me, already?"

All of the annoyance and frustration on his face falters. "Not at all. You're by far the most bearable in all of the palace, it's just–" He pauses, allowing for his thoughts to collect. "It's just never been fair."

"Fair?"

"You don't see me going on week-long trips with my girlfriend and calling it a school project."

He's talking about Thor getting the easy road, which he does. The future king of Asgard gets everything without even having to lift a finger. It's made him cocky and arrogant, but not without heart. I can understand where he's coming from. With a mother who has many husbands, it's clear which pair of daughters are her favorite.

"You have a girlfriend?"

Loki rapidly shakes his head. "No. No one has ever kept my attention long enough to swoon me. Everyone's so slow, so boring."

"Lorelei did." A mischievous grin paints on my lips.

He rolls those bright jade eyes of his. "She doesn't count. Can you believe it- I don't even know how to braid hair, but I did at that moment. Right in front of you, too. How did that feel?"

It burned, but it hurts even more, now. Looking back, my blood starts to boil. Anger rather than annoyance courses through my veins. If I had been where I am now, I would've silenced Lorelei then and there. I might've done something worse.

"Oh, it was annoying." I play off my real emotion. "I was quite concerned for her hair in the moment. But more importantly, do you think I'm boring or slow?"

I don't know why I ask it. The words just blurt out. I'm asking if I'm up to his standards of a romantic partner. I'm asking if he's ever thought of me in that way. I've never thought of Loki in that way, but my question forces the same one on me. My cheeks turn hot. Loki's turn a soft pink. He spares a soft chuckle, turning his gaze back to his book. He doesn't know how to answer.

"I– no. I don't think you're either of those things." He hangs on the last word as if he's about to say something else. I find myself hanging onto his voice, bracing myself for whatever he may say next.

"Well good," I say, more than eager to change the subject. "Because if not, this last project would be unbearable for you."

He laughs softly. "Yeah. It would."

We wrap up our work in the library and head to the arena to begin the process of harnessing my seidr.

"Magic works with whoever processes it. It uses your power. Where is yours, Sigyn?"

I think hard, furrowing my brows. "I– I don't know."

"What makes you feel the most?"

My first reaction is to say my mother gets the most emotion from me. Thoughts of home and of my prison sentence here soon filter in. My expression turns from lighthearted to murderous in a matter of moments.

"Now, whatever you're feeling is not what I'm talking about. Negative emotions elicit black magic. While dark magic has it's place, that's not what we're trying to do here. What makes you feel the most alive?"

I have the same answer. Asgard is a cruel reminder that I haven't be picked off by a Valkyrie yet.

"Happiest?"

The memories of my childhood were the happiest. Now, they're tainted by my mother. They're ruined by time. Recently, my best memories have been sitting in the library with Loki. My favorite ones are when I walk in a room to find that he's saved me a seat next to him, taking favor over me than anyone else. It's silly to imagine a friend making me so joyful.

"I've got it."

"What is it?"

"The memory?"

"Yes," he says, just wanting me to spit it out.

"It's–" There's no way I can tell him it's of him. "It's of my home."

Loki doesn't believe me. "Lying to the god of them isn't a good idea, Sigyn. We can always tell."

"You're the god of lies? You've been given divination because of your talent to lie?"

"Yes and no. The word 'lies' implies my silver tongue, really. But now I'm dying to know what your fondest memories are."

"Just because you ask doesn't mean you can get what you want," I say. "Let's move on with the exercise."

"Fine, but I will know them. I will learn your secrets."

He instructs me to think of my memory as if I'm experiencing it in the moment. He doesn't know that I am. Next, he tells me to focus that feeling– that gut-wrenching emotion to physical form. I close my eyes, doing as he says. I feel the power drifting from my heart to my hands. When I open them, my fists up to my shoulders are glowing a soft, pastel blue.

Loki steps back in confusion. "I've never seen that color before. It's either of your Vanir heritage or your power source. It would help me to know what it is."

"Not a chance." I can only manage a whisper, for I'm too deep in awe at my own manifestation. "Isn't this awesome?"

He smiles, and for a moment I believe the heavens might smile with him. "Yes, it's quite impressive. Doesn't it feel great to have this power?"

At his words, the blue grows brighter. My favorite memory is happening right before my eyes. I must be feeding off of it.

"Yes," I say. "I feel like I can do anything."

"And you can, but you have to learn to control it. Too much of a good thing can lead to disaster. Try and calm it, Sigyn."

I close my eyes, shifting my thoughts back to quieter memories. As he predicts, the light dims.

"What do you want to do with it? Focus, now. Once you know what you want to do, you'll be able to use your magic to all of it's vast limits if you have that goal in mind."

"I want to–" The words don't come to me. Nothing does. I have no words to describe the feeling in my chest. It's a selfless feeling, directed at everyone and no one. I open my eyes and the power fades away completely. "I don't know, Loki. I don't know what to do. What do normal people say?"

"You're not normal, Sigyn."

"What do you want?"

He takes in a deep breath, crossing his arms over his chest. "I want a number of different things, depending on what type of magic I'm using. Sometimes it's knowledge, sometimes power and kingship. It really depends on the situation."

"Is that normal?"

"No, those like us typically only focus on one type of magic or one type of desire. I think you and I will have many. Let's try again. Focus on your memory, again. What do you want to do with it?"

"I want to protect it," I say without thinking. "I want to stay untainted, unlike all of my other memories."

"Then do it. Keep it whole." He walks around me now. "Imagine if this memory is threatened. What are you willing to do to protect it?"

"Everything."

* * *

**A NORDIC FUN FACT OF THE DAY:** Sigyn actually has a multitude of sisters. They've been mentioned once or twice in this story, since there are so many. Freya also has a mixed family. A majority of her daughters are from the dwarf, Idwaldi. Only a few are from her first husband, Odr.


	13. Chapter 13

"This process could be expedited if you would just tell me what memory you're harnessing."

"Who says I want it to happen quickly?" I ask, leaning against an apple tree. "What if I want to take my time with it?"

"Mimir wants me to teach you a skill that takes centuries to master in all but a week. We really don't have a choice here, Sigyn."

I don't like it. I don't like the possibility of this being our last week to connect. If Loki and I get placed in different sections of Asgard's vast workings, there's a large chance of our friendship fading. He'll be off doing princely duties, and I'll be doing... well, who knows?

He leans beside me. "Don't look so upset. If you can master the art of seidr in a week, you will have proved your value to Asgard ten times over! Odin will have to put you in a high position."

"It's not about that," I snap.

Loki crosses his arms over his chest. "Then what is it about?"

"I don't know."

"Do you want me to fail?"

"No."

"Then what it is? Because I cannot think of any other reason you don't want to succeed."

My heart burns for reasons I can't explain. It makes me feel gross inside, but I've also never felt so alive. Even as he grows more and more upset, demanding to know just what my intentions are, I remain silent. I'm lost in this feeling I can't figure out. Confusion and fogginess alter my thoughts.

"Loki, something's happening to me."

"Well, it must be. You know, I think I need a break for tonight. Let's meet back up in the morning."

"No, wait!" I grab onto his arm. "Wait, please. Listen to me."

"Sigyn, I've had just about enough of listening–"

"It's of you," I confess, dropping my arm, and finding myself out of breath.

The prince pulls away. Disbelief clouds his face. "What?"

"My fondest memory," the words spill over from my lips. "It's of you, Loki."

He pauses, letting his harsh gaze soften. His lips retreat from their scowl. "What have I done to cause you such happiness?"

"I don't know." Again, the confession floods from my tongue and I am unable to stop it. "I'm at my happiest when I'm with you. You help me remember who I am past all of the politics and treaties. You look beyond all of that, even when no one else does."

Loki's mouth falls slightly open as if he's considering a possibility that wasn't present before. I have no idea what he might say. I'm not even sure what I want to hear, but I'm hanging onto every second that passes as he gazes deep into my eyes.

"I'm sorry," he says. "I have to go."

And he leaves. He leaves me.

I stay propped against the tree, unable to move. The hurt of Loki's actions registers first. It's a sharp pain in the center of my chest. Here, I laid my heart out for him and he chose to walk away from it. The second thing to cross my mind is my complete stupidity. I know Loki by now. I should've caught onto the signs of his disinterest a long time ago. He never liked being with me! He only stayed by my side so that he could get a decent grade.

The last thing that comes to my thoughts is the subject of my feelings. I am my mother's daughter if nothing else. Freya is so clouded with emotion that her heart makes all of her decisions, rather than her head. Apparently, I have inherited that same flaw. How could I dare to think of a prince of Asgard as more than a mere classmate? How foolish of me to give my heart to an enemy of my people. I knew this would happen, but I truly hoped it wouldn't.

The next few days are horrible at best. Loki hardly talks to me. If we do happen to converse, it's about our project and nothing else. We spend every other second apart from each other. The worst part is his appearance. Around everyone else, he behaves like his normal self. Loki doesn't try to hide his true feelings towards me when we're alone. Perhaps that's what hurts the most. We were friends before all of this.

My sleep falters, as does my mood. Even as angry as I am at him for abandoning me, I still can't help but look at him with the same fondness. I hate myself for it. I can't stand to wake up every single morning and know that I will ruin both of our days. It becomes harder and harder to do anything, especially focus on school.

When we train for our individual projects, he can't even look at me. It's like he's disgusted that my best thoughts are of him. The more recent memories taint my previous ones, and some abysmal black magic takes the place of the healthy blue glow I was producing.

I begin having dark visions with this new magic. Images of prison, bowls, and poison fill my eyes. These visions slowly creep into my dreams. Not even Mimir can discern them. Loki tried but came up empty-handed too.

"This isn't working," he says. "You're producing nothing but abominations. What happened to your memories, Sigyn?"

"What do you think? I lost them."

"How could you lose them? They were only created a week ago!"

"I can't take this anymore, Loki!" I scream over him. "The tournament is tomorrow, and you can't even look me in the eyes! Just tell me you don't care for me. Tell me so that I can move on!"

"Don't you see?" He yells back just as vicious. "I'm trying to help you! You might not always have me, Sigyn! Odin could send you back! He could send you anywhere across the realms, and those memories will fade to you. I will fade to you! I'm trying to prepare you to live a life without me."

In all of my blind anger, I answer honestly. "I don't want a life without you."

"How can you say that? My father is the enemy of your past. My brother is about to become the enemy of your future!"

"You're not like them! You're kind. You think of other people; you think of my people. You will advise Thor fairly, I know you will! There is no one else I'd rather have speaking on behalf of my people."

"What about you? Who speaks for you, Sigyn?"

"No one! No one speaks for me." Hot, salty moisture pours from my eyes. "I'm abandoned by my family and a sacrifice to yours. There is no one to speak for me. I am a prisoner here. I am alone!"

His frustration subsides. Loki closes his eyes, sighing deeply. "You're not alone."

"No, I am. If I don't have you, I'm alone–"

The prince of Asgard takes my face in his palms and kisses me deeply. His flesh is freezing to the touch, eliciting gooseflesh from my neck, but his lips are soft and warm. Loki's kiss reminds me of a bountiful hunt in Vanaheim. The chase is over. My mission is complete. I'm filled with the heat of honey mead and a love that I've never felt before.

In one kiss, I understand Frigga's devotion to Odin. I can grasp the hurt Sif witnessed when Thor was seen with Lorelei. I understand Nanna's heartbroken death when her lover passed on before her. This awful, wonderful thing is a motivation I can fully comprehend. I get it now.

"You have me," he promises. "You're not alone."

* * *

**A NORDIC FUN FACT OF THE DAY:** The visions Sigyn's seeing is of her actual Norse fate. Loki was bound to a rock where poison dripped onto his face. Sigyn stayed by his side, holding a bowl to capture this poison. Even though this is a Marvel-based fic, I wanted to throw a reference to Norse!Sigyn in there.


	14. Chapter 14

My feelings didn't come slowly. They appeared all at once. In fact, they arrived so suddenly, I didn't know what to do with them. I let them take over. I allowed them to confess these spark feelings I had for Loki. It's these same feelings that keep my lips on his.

I thought I understood my way around love. Apparently, I had no inkling of its sweet taste and precious heat. Nothing I'd ever read could've prepared me for what I'm experiencing now.

"Shall we try again?"

A smile graces my features. "Sure."

He reluctantly backs away. "Now, harness your desire."

On cue, the blue haze of my seidr pools around my fists. Even my best memories don't come close to the one I just witnessed. Our kiss will be a memory that will stay with me long after our time is over.

"You have all this power, Sigyn! What are you going to do with it?"

An emotion not unlike love brings my hands to my chest. I don't know what I want to do. I just know I can't keep it contained here. My palms expand out, releasing two giant pillars of blue light into the night sky. When the pillars reach the stars, they shatter, exploding into droplets of starlight.

The star rain falls delicately around us, illuminating Loki's face in bursts.

"You had all of that built up in you, and you used it for a light show."

Perhaps I could've used it for something more useful. Odin won't keep me around because I can create pretty things.

"It's pretty," I protest.

He stops. "I suppose it's a start, but from now on we must use your power to benefit my father. If he is not impressed by your magic, he could send you to do his bidding anywhere in the realms."

"But I thought I was safe in Asgard. I'm only here to complete the treaty."

"You are his property now, yes. That being said, he can use you wherever he sees fit, or for whatever unruly position he desires."

Loki's talking about the positions Odin anoints under the table: brides and spies, and perhaps even child sacrifices to scare my people into submission.

He rushes to comfort me, sweeping my hair behind my ear and placing a soft peck on my forehead. "That's not going to happen to you. I'm going to help you. I'll teach you how to make yourself useful to him."

"I'm not his property," I say, pulling out of his grasp. "I don't belong to any man, especially not Odin."

Loki takes my hand. "I'd like to make you mine if you'll have me."

I had never given courtship an ounce of thought. Such a religious task bored me. It also came to my mind once or twice that no one would ever have me. And now here I am in the hands of an Asgardian prince who's asking if he's worthy enough to be mine.

"Once Thor is coronated, we will both be pawned off into loveless marriages. That's what happened to my mother, and it's exactly what will happen to us. Sigyn, there's no one else I'd rather be with. Besides, our courtship is everything the All-Father could want! We will be the new ties between Asgard and Vanaheim."

My head feels like it's spinning, but everything's happening in some kind of slow universe. The starlight falls gently around his nervous smile, but I can't seem to grab onto any one feature. Loki's proposing to me, essentially. Am I ready for that commitment? Do I have a choice?

"I'll only enter a courtship for love."

"I love you." He kisses my hand. "I'm giving you my life, my fidelity. I'm giving you my wealth and my knowledge. I have no greater gift than that."

"I have nothing to give you," I say. "My royalty perks have all been revoked here. I own nothing but my love and my life. You can have both."

"You are more than enough for me." Our lips meet once more and it's just as blissful as the first time. His affection, I will never grow tired of. "Let us go to my father after the tournament."

"After the tournament?"

"He won't hear us beforehand. He's too busy preparing for the events. I haven't even seen him in days."

"Hear you for what?"

Thor and Sif are walking hand-in-hand towards us. We separate as quickly as we can, but it's too late. The elder prince releases Sif and tackles his brother. The warrior nearly knocks me down to the floor as well with her giant hug.

"When did all of this happen?"

"Recently," Loki says. "Very recently."

"And you intend to go to Father with your courtship?"

"Yes," I inform the two. "After the tournament."

"How wonderful, my friend! I bless this arrangement!"

"You're not King yet," Loki reminds him.

"Soon! And I shall be the one to wed you. It would give me no greater joy. Come, my brother and sister. We must celebrate."

And for one night, I allow myself to have fun. We drink a little too much, laugh a little too much, and enjoy each other's company not enough. The four of us stay up until the early hours of the morning, telling of war stories and embarrassing each other in the palace tavern. These are the moments I will never forget. I will never lose touch of Sif's bellowing laugh, nor Thor's infectious grin as he tells of a valiant battle. I will cherish Loki's innocent, genuine smile even amongst the chaos. I will keep these things, pondering them in my heart.

The morning comes too quickly. Snotra wakes me before the sun is up to prepare for the events today. Even in all of my exhaustion, I wake without a worry. I dress in a light, flowing emerald dress without complaint of its material. There is nothing that can ruin this day, nothing that can take away my love.

We meet up at the arena. Early risers have already secured their seats. Hogun, Volstagg and Fandral man three different registration tables. Thor and Sif prepare to greet the party-goers and champions at the Bifrost. Loki and I are stationed around the arena to ensure that the contests run smoothly and quickly.

As much as I want to run into Loki's arms, I refrain. Today, we must focus on our project. He keeps looking towards me, even from across the arena. I know, because I steal glances just as much.

At Hogun's command, I enter a small piece of technology into my ear once I mount my cat. It feels good to be once again on Bygul's back. I feel my most comfortable against his soft fur. He's also more than grateful to get an outing from the stable, even if it is to keep the arena secure.

"Can you hear me, Sigyn?" Loki asks.

"No lover talk, you two," Sif jokes. "We're all in ears."

"Lover talk?" I can see Fandral's eyes go wide from the other side of the field.

"Perhaps we should all wait to announce the engagement until after it actually happens, Sif."

"What joyous news!"

"Let's keep the joyous news to ourselves until Odin approves of us," Loki says. "We all have a job to do today."

Mimir, Odin, and Frigga watch from their box at the very top of the stands. They'll be eager to see how we work together and how smoothly the tournament is run. Part of our final assignment relies on how well this tournament goes.

"Alfheim has arrived," Thor announces. "Be prepared. They're in a special mood today."

The light from the elves can be seen from miles away. They dart from place to place in spurts of light and silver. Freyr leads them in full capacity. He towers above the rest, even reaching Volstagg's height.

"Uncle!" I call out to him, getting off of Bygul. "Uncle Freyr!"

The leader of the elves strides over to me once he's registered with Hogun. He shines as bright as the sun, and I don't just mean because he's regarded as one of the most beautiful gods in the realms. I mean my uncle truly glows with sunlight. Freyr embraces me, lifting me high off the ground.

"Sigyn! My favorite niece, how are you?"

"I'm well. How's Alfheim treating you?"

"Oh, it's wonderful." He sweeps a hand through his golden hair. "What are you doing in Asgard?"

My smile fades as quickly as it appeared. How do I tell him that his sister used me as a pawn in a wicked game? Would he even believe me?

"My sister!" Freyr changes the subject. "Where is she? Has she come yet?"

"Not yet," I say. "I'll keep an eye out for her."

The god of the sun spares me a wink before taking his seat among his kin.

"You didn't tell me you were related to Freyr," Hogun huffs.

"I'm sorry. Should I have introduced myself as his niece?"

"He's so handsome."

"I believe he's taken at the moment with some mortal woman."

"In due time," Fandral says to his friend. "All in due time."

The next to arrive are the giants of Muspelheim. Volstagg dons fire-resistant armor to register these beasts, and they even have a special melting-proof section in the stands. They remind me a lot of the Jotnar, but with completely opposite physiology. When the giants step, they leave tracks of molten grass and ash in their path. Their orange skin is partially translucent, revealing hot, boiling blood underneath.

Bygul doesn't like these creatures. His tail poofs when they pass us by.

"When are the Midgardians due, Thor?"

"There will be no Midgardians this year, nor Dark Elves. The mortals are too frail to keep up with giants, and we couldn't find any inhabitants on Svartalfheim, as usual."

"Listen up everyone," Sif commands. "The Vanir just arrived."

* * *

**A NORDIC FUN FACT OF THE DAY:** Freyr is the brother of Freya, and really is considered to be one of the most attractive gods around, much like the Greek Apollo. It's where Sigyn got her dashing good looks.


	15. Chapter 15

Loki's fingers graze the back of my hand. I doubt Freya would allow my sisters to come after everything that happened with me. In fact, I'm not even sure she'll show her face. I expect to see familiar faces of knights sent by the Vanir council to participate, but no one else.

"Sigyn?"

All of my sisters stand at the entrance. Lofn parts from them, running for me. I leave Loki and run for her too. I can see nothing else. I can do nothing else. I kick off my shoes once I reach the grass. My arms spread wide to embrace her. I'm weeping before we even reach each other.

Hnossa, Gersemi, Ve, Var, Syn, and Sjofn trail after her. All of them surround me, wrapping me in warmness and love. Loki has made the happiest I have ever been on Vanaheim or Asgard, but my sisters provide a different love, a different kind of happy. My love for them only barely comes second to him.

"My sisters, oh how I've missed you all."

"We missed you too, Sister."

Along with the multitude of women comes their multitude of questions.

"How is Asgard?"

"Don't you just hate it here?"

"Are there any cute bachelors?"

"Is that warrior woman single?"

"Are you seeing anyone?"

"Sisters," I say, drying my eyes. "We can talk about all of this tonight at the opening feast. For now, I must work."

"You're working?"

"The audacity of these Aesir!"

"It's for our school project," Loki informs from behind us. "We're all participating."

I pull him forward by the arm. "This is Loki, Prince of Asgard."

Their eyes go wide and their mouths fall open.

"He is off-limits." The warning flies off my lips before I have time to catch it. My index finger raises to each of them, Lofn in particular. "And so is his brother and Sif."

Disappointment takes hold of their features, but they agree to keep their hands off the taken royalty.

Sif thanks me over our communication piece.

There is one woman who I hadn't noticed this whole time. She's dressed in an elegant, white dress that looks similar to my green one. Her long, blonde hair flows down her back. Her skin is kissed by the sun, much like mine. Her eyes are the same coffee hue as mine, and she hasn't aged a day since we last spoke.

Her arms open wide. "My daughter."

I don't go into them just yet. How can I embrace a woman who gave me up? How can I accept her bias and bloodshed? She is identical to Odin in every way. She is everything I despise, and she is my mother.

"Mother." Before I have time to change my mind, I give in to every desire of my heart. With a loving soul, I allow myself to hug Freya. She's just as warm as I remember.

"I miss you, and I have a lot of questions," I say. I'm not sure if she'll tell me the truth, but I'll keep Loki by my side for that. "Let's discuss them later."

She nods in agreement. "I would love to answer them. Do whatever it is you have to do. I'll see you tonight."

I watch her meet up with my sisters in the stands. My heart longs to be with them, but that same heart has also found a home here.

I slip my shoes back on just in time for the Jotnar to arrive. The beasts are lead by King Laufey. He stalks through the Asgardians as if they're nothing. He pauses as he passes Loki and I. The prince puts his arm in front of my stomach, shielding me from whatever he might be planning. The king of Jotunheim just snickers and continues to his place in the stands. I'm surprised he actually showed up. Last time Odin and Laufey came in contact with each other, Odin lost an eye and Laufey lost a son.

The last to arrive are the Asgardians. They fill in the vast number of seats between the Vanir, Light Elves, Jotnar, and Muspel giants. These stands rise high into the sky. So high that I can hardly even see the box where Odin observes the events.

"We're ready to begin," Loki says over comms. "Thor and Sif are clear to begin the opening ceremony."

On command, the two of them walk out onto a platform in the center of the arena. This platform raises into a stage. All people and beasts cheer and applaud the up-and-coming king and queen. Thor stretches out his arm, reveling in the attention.

"Welcome! Welcome!" He laughs. "Welcome to Asgard's Coronation Tournament. Today, we will find out just who the best warrior in the nine realms really is– aside from me, of course."

This raises a roar of laughter from the audience.

Sif picks up where he left off. "Today, your best warriors will be put to the test in a challenging series of events ranging in all forms of battle. Before we begin, we must set some rules. We want to see a clean fight. Killing will result in immediate disqualification. There is no greater strength a warrior can possess than that of self-control. Make sure to stay in the boundaries of the arena. Whoever steps outside of those boundaries will forfeit that event."

"And lastly, we want to see your best fight. Show us what you've got! Let the tournament begin!"

The tournament consists of a range of battles. Archers, heavyweights, swordsman and all manner of warrior fight against those with the same specialty. Once one remains from each category, they will battle other warriors until there is one warrior remaining. A battle is considered won once a warrior is incapable to get up. Needless to say, Eir and her apprentices stay close to the arena.

All of the battles run smoothly, and exactly how Loki and I intended. The giants are vicious, hardly sparing whatever creature they may raise their fist against. On more than one occasion, Thor has to intervene a painful death. Still, every warrior knows the danger of participating when they sign up.

It's all going according to plan. Everything is running so smoothly, I imagine even Odin is smiling down on our organization. Everything goes just as it should be until Thor announces my sister's name.

"Next we have Lofn of Vanaheim and Halla of Jotunheim."

The dwarf-Vanir mix steps into the arena, fearless. She glares up towards the crowd, then at her opponent. The Jotnar giantess towers over her by multiple feet. This warrior is large, hideous, and looks to be as deadly as Sif.

"What is she doing?" I whisper to Loki.

He shakes his head. "I don't– I don't know."

The battle starts with Lofn directing rounds of firey magic towards the giant. Halla puts up shields of ice and quickly advances. My sister is small, but she's quick. She darts straight through the legs of her opponent. However, this tactic only works once. In trying to dodge another attack, Halla catches Lofn with her knees. Frostbite crawls up her abdomen at the touch. Cracking ribs fill in the space between her screams.

"I forfeit!" She shouts in bouts of consciousness. "I forfeit!"

Eir readies a bed, but the giant doesn't give up.

"Someone do something," I say in comms. "Lofn forfeited the fight. Stop her!"

Sif runs out onto the field readying her sword. The giant directs her anger towards the goddess. I follow behind, grabbing my sister out of harm's way.

"What are you doing out here?" Lofn asks, unable to keep her eyes open.

"Just stay awake, you fool." I pick her up, injuring myself with frostbite in the process. My cry signals Halla. She turns from Sif back to Lofn and me, not pleases that I took her original plaything. She chases after us with roars and razor-sharp icicles flying at our heads. They whizz past my ears and land directly in my path.

Loki appears behind me, light green seidr in his palms. He pushes the giant back onto the field, right into Sif's line of fire. As soon as I place Lofn on the bed, Eir takes her away.

Sif has Halla secured in a rope. Volstagg and Hogun take her off the field to a jail where she'll be able to cool down for the rest of the tournament.

"Are you hurt?"

"No, Loki." I push him away in fear that he will also contract the freezing skin. "Just a little frostbite. Nothing to worry about."

He calls over a healer. "Please get her wounds cleaned, immediately."

She escorts me to a side room. The healer efficiently covers the blue patch on my arm with a soothing cream and bandage. She finishes by assuring me that I should be better in a day or two.

The tournament has continued by the time I get out. Loki is on the sidelines, fuming.

"I should have that beast killed! What was it thinking? I know, those jotuns don't think!"

I rest my hand on his shoulder. "It's okay. I'm alright. Just a small patch, nothing life-threatening."

"But it could've been!" He insists, even though he's already calming down.

"But it wasn't. We still have a job to do. Let's finish it, then we can be together. We're going to go to your father, remember? This can still be a good day."

"Excuse me." An Asgardian warrior interrupts our conversation. "My name's Theoric, and I think I might be lost."

* * *

**A NORDIC FUN FACT OF THE DAY:** Lofn is a goddess of adultery and forbidden love, which is probably why Sigyn gave her an extra pointed look when she said to stay away from her man. She's also the perfect, rebellious goddess to stick it to the old men who think women can't fight.


	16. Chapter 16

"I'll show you where to go," I say, letting myself graze Loki's hand for just one extra second before leaving. "So you're from Asgard?"

"Technically, but I grew up on Vanaheim."

An Asgardian growing up on Vanaheim? That sounds almost identical to my situation, except reversed.

"So who do you battle for?"

"Vanaheim," Theoric says, sparing the heavens a mischevious smile. "I wasn't planning on fighting, but since Lofn tapped out so early, I'm taking her place."

"How kind of you." I roll my eyes.

His dirty ash blonde hair makes him hard to look at in the sunlight. Everything about him is so radiant, it's almost as if he has Freya's blessing.

"Someone with a fighting chance has to represent Vanaheim. I mean before you left, you were the only one who would've had a shot in the house of Freya. It's obvious who you battle for, now."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"After you left–"

"I was sent away." I correct him before he can get another word out. "Don't believe the lies you're told."

Theoric's blue eyes grow wide, but his brows knit together. He doesn't understand, and I hope he never will. There are some truths that just aren't worth the pain. In this case, mine is one of them.

"This is where you'll stay until Thor calls your name. Best of luck, Theoric."

I make my way back to Loki before the Asgardian can make out one more word.

"You look frustrated," he comments.

I cross my arms over my chest. "It's nothing."

Theoric's fight is next. To my ultimate displeasure, he wins it with ease. He wins that one, and the next one, and the next one, and the next one. In fact, he makes it all the way to the finale. The final battle is Theoric against Tyr, one of Odin's best warriors.

I hate it, but I find myself rooting for him. If it comes between glorifying Odin or my home, of course I will choose my home every single time, even if the warrior representing it is somewhat of a snob. The nine realms hold their breath as the two, exhausted warriors go toe-to-toe. Tyr is large, much like Volstagg. Theoric is quick but brutish, like Thor. I already know who's going to win before it even unfolds.

Theoric slashes at Tyr's hand, slicing it off with one smooth cut. After that, it's all over. Vanaheim is victorious. Theoric of Vanaheim is named the best warrior in all of the realms.

The tournament finishes, thankfully. I can breathe for the first time in a week. Shortly after the conclusion, we're dismissed to the feasting hall. Loki sits to my right, and all of my sisters line up the chairs to my left. They've promised each other to switch periodically throughout the night so each of them gets a chance to speak with me. Mother sits across from us.

Var and I talk about how the treaty is going, and if there's an act I had to perform to complete it. As far as I know, my presence is enough. Ve is eager to know how my magic is going along. She could sense the seidr on me before she even saw me. Hnossa encourages me to sleep with Loki, as the sexual tension between us is crystal clear. Gersemi demands to know when I started braiding my hair with flowers in it and insists that I start decorating my lips with soft pink pigment. Sjofn is happy for Loki and I, even though neither of us has told any of my sisters how we feel about each other. She blesses our relationship.

The youngest, Syn, is last. She pulls me down to her height so she can whisper in my ear.

"I found a way to get you out of it."

Such mature words for a child. I'm stopped in a paralyzing shock.

"What?"

"I know how we can get you home without breaking the treaty."

My glare shoots towards Freya, who smiles a knowing smirk.

I don't want to go home. The realization of it forces my heart to race. I don't want to return to Vanaheim. I will not be fed lies by any party. I will not participate in my mother's mastermind games. I have been a pawn long enough. Loki is here, so I will stay here. If Freya thinks she can convince me otherwise, she's dead wrong.

Freya motions for me to follow her out into the hallway. As soon as we get there, she hugs me tightly.

"Oh, my daughter. I missed you so incredibly much."

"I missed you too, Mother," I say, pulling out of her grasp.

"I know how hard it's been here for you. I heard every silent prayer and wish you gave me."

My hands fold behind my back. "So why didn't you come?"

She sighs, allowing her smile to fade. "You know I couldn't do that without betraying Odin."

"I'm a prisoner here, Mother. You knew that, and still, you sent me away."

"It was only for a little while, Sigyn," she says as if I'm being ridiculous. "I always had a plan to bring you home."

"Oh? And what is this plan?"

"An arranged marriage between the holder and an Asgardian will solidify the treaty. Odin and I have already spoken about it. He approves of it."

"When were Loki and I–"

"Loki? You mean the prince?"

"Yeah," I say. "That's who you paired me with, right?"

She shakes her head. "Absolutely not! I will not have a son of Odin in my bloodline. But it's okay, Sigyn. I've paired you with someone far better: the warrior, Theoric! He's strong, wealthy, and he'll take care of you even better than this Odinson would. Everything will be fine."

My stomach suddenly weighs ten thousand pounds. Nausea creeps up into my throat. "No, Mother. I do not agree with this. I will not do this. Loki and I are going to Odin with our courtship tonight. I will not wed this Theoric."

The goddess's temper rises. "It's useless. Odin will not approve of such a thing. I've already made arrangments with him and Theoric. Your marriage is set in stone. You can fight it, but you will not win."

Fury and rage settle into my bones. Crimson and heat cloud my eyes. My fists curl into tight, white balls. Jet black seidr covers my arms.

"You would be wise to control your anger."

"My anger? We are far past anger now, Moth–"

A gentle, cold hand touch my arm. Loki's jade eyes are wide at my display of black magic. Without a word, he takes my hand and leads me away.

"We're going to the throne room," I say.

"Not until you tell me what's going on."

Tears swell in my eyes. Loki's calm demeanor cools my own. Understanding takes the place of my anger. I'm not getting out of this, not unless Odin sees favor on me.

"My mother arranged a marriage between Theoric and me, Loki! Odin has already given his blessing. Freya's worked everything out with him. We must go to Odin now. It might not be too late to change his mind."

"This is what I was afraid of," he whispers, unable to do anything else. He tries to blink away the moisture from his eyes but is unable to do so. "I knew we were going to be pieces in their game. I knew this would happen, Sigyn."

I run my hand along his cheek. "Let's go to your father. It might not be too late."

We speed through the halls, practically sprinting to reach the throne room before anyone else has the chance to.

"Father!" Loki enters first. I follow closely behind. "We must have word with you."

Odin smiles down from his throne. "My son, what troubles you?"

"Sigyn and I request your blessing on our courtship."

The All-Father tilts his head. "But Sigyn is already engaged to be wed to Theoric."

The prince walks up to his throne, unafraid. I stay on the floor, too fearful to take a step up.

"We planned to tell you before the tournament, but you were busy with preparations. Truly, we were courting before this arrangement."

He thinks for a moment, pursing his lips together. "The time has come where you both must think of the good of your peoples, rather than the good of yourselves. Asgard has just secured an alliance with Freya. The Aesir and Vanir are at true peace for the first time in hundreds of years. I'm sorry, my son. We all have sacrifices we must make."

"But–"

"I believe it would do you good to never speak to each other again."

* * *

**A NOT FACT OF THE DAY:** All sources confirm Theoric looks like Finnick Odair.

**AN ACTUAL NORDIC FUN FACT OF THE DAY:** I based all of Sigyn's sister's interactions with her on their Nordic divination. Var: law and order. Ve: creation. Hnossa: sexuality and desire. Gersemi: beauty. Sjofn: Love. Syn: legal defense and justice.


	17. Chapter 17

I'm not exactly sure how everything transpires over the next days, but I do know that I have lost complete control.

Freya leaves my sisters to plan the wedding, which they love. Even though all of them are younger than I, I feel like the baby of the family. Lofn heals perfectly, as I expected. She shortly joins my wedding party, which is planned for two days after Thor's coronation, meaning I will have just enough time to see one of my best friend's take his place as King before I'm carted off to a new life of slavery.

I'm removed from all of my Asgardian classes to prepare for queenship and married life. Mimir councils Theoric and I on keeping a healthy marriage, while Frigga instructs me on how to handle the Vanir throne as elegantly as possible.

I'm forbidden from seeing Loki, as we expected. So I spend my days planning for a wedding while spending my nights in the arms of my love. He comes to my room every evening and we keep the oil burning well into the night. In the morning, he leaves before Snotra can wake me and I do it all again.

The final step before Thor's coronation is an engagement party to be held in Asgard's ballroom. Vanir and Aesir from all over attend to wish us a happy, healthy marriage. Theoric and I stand at the center of the room, thanking everyone and acting as though we are the happiest couple around.

Loki looks pale, as I'm sure I do as well. Thor stands to his side, appearing just as sickly. All of my friends seem uneasy. Sorrow and mourning cover each of their faces. Along with it is the grim resignation of knowing that my life is out of their hands. There's nothing that any of them can do. Thor's already tried to convince his father to change his mind, but Odin has closed his ears.

I'm given a ring to show my engaged status. It's a smooth, golden band with a simple diamond in the middle. Loki can't stand it. He makes me take it off whenever we're together. But I'm wearing it now as the music starts up. Theoric takes my hand in his and we begin to move across the ballroom.

It's nothing like when Loki and I danced. Theoric feels stiff, rigid. I can't stand to be in his presence, and it's nothing he's done. He's not some horrible man who planned this from the beginning. He is just another knight in my mother's grand scheme.

"Some engagement party, huh?"

"What?" He snaps me out of my gloomy thoughts.

Theoric's lips curl up into the slightest of smirks. "I've been to funerals more joyful than this one."

"I guess we're not as good at acting as we thought."

He shrugs. "It's just a part of the price. What are you getting out of it?"

"Out of our marriage? Well," I say, furrowing my dark brows together. "I get to go home. In going home, I also get to take over my mother's throne, but I didn't truly want that."

"You get to go home," he repeats ridiculously. "That's it? Damn, did you draw the short straw or something?"

"I've always drawn the short straw." A hint of a smile graces my features. In different circumstances, I believe we could've been friends. "What about you? What do you get out of this deal?"

"Oh, the usual. When you take over as Queen Sigyn, I get to be your King Theoric."

"So fame and riches. Got it."

"When your goddess and queen tells you to do something, you don't really get to tell her no."

"Ah," I say. "You weren't given a choice either. That sounds more like it."

"That's classified information, so keep it to yourself."

"You can count on me."

The party ends many hours after I would like it. It almost takes an entire day to clear out all of the relatives and royalty who wish to congratulate us. It finally ends well into the night. Loki's already waiting in my chambers.

He kisses me passionately to re-mark me as his own. I let him, leaning into his lips. I want to keep the scent of his body on my skin. I want the taste of his lips on my tongue. I commit all of our secret meetings to the depths of my memory.

This is especially so on the eve of Thor's coronation. The celebration continues throughout the night, but Loki and I sneak off to be together for one last night. I spend the night weeping. He spends the night at my side, attempting to comfort me. When I wake up in the morning, he's still in my bed.

"I'm going to fix this," he promises, planting delicate kisses along my temple and cheek. "I'm going to fix this for us."

"What are you planning?" I ask, still not entirely awake.

"I can't tell you. You'll see soon enough."

If I was awake enough, I'd force it out of him. He leaves before I get that chance. Snotra wakes me up in plenty of time to prepare for the coronation. The interaction with Loki seemed only like a dream. I'm not actually sure if it happened or not.

My sisters and I stand closest to the throne during Thor's grand coronation. We applaud and cheer for the prince. For the first time in weeks, I find myself happy. Thor stalks around the throne room, laughing and reveling in the attention.

He deserves this. There will be no greater King of Asgard than he. With Loki at his side, I'm sure he'll restore Asgard's reputation. I look forward to meeting him as Queen of Vanaheim.

Finally, he bows before the throne and removes his winged helm. Odin stands and bangs his staff on the ground, silencing the masses.

"Thor Odinson, my heir, my firstborn," he says with tears in his eyes. "So long entrusted with Mjolnir, forged in the heart of a dying star. It's power has no equal. It is a weapon to destroy or a tool to build. It is a fit companion for a king."

Loki and I lock eyes before he turns them back towards his father.

"I have protected Asgard and the lives of the innocent across the nine realms from the time of a great beginning. The day has come for you to take this responsibility, my son. I trust you will serve your people just as I did and my fathers before me."

No, I think he will do much better.

"Do you swear to guard the nine realms?"

"I swear."

"And do you swear to preserve the peace?"

"I swear."

"And do you swear to cast aside all selfish ambition and to pledge yourself only to the good of the realm?"

"I swear!"

"Then on this day, I, Odin All-Father proclaim you–"

He stops. His one good eye searches the air as if he's looking at something that isn't actually here. The masses hold their breath, me along with them.

"Frost Giants."

It's only a whisper, unheard by a majority of the crowd. With another hit against the floor, Odin commands for the guard of the relic room to annihilate the intruders. Loki and Thor follow their father out of the throne room. Frigga grabs the attention of the crowd.

"We apologize for the interruption, everyone. There will be refreshments in the feasting hall. You're all welcome to enjoy yourselves."

I follow Sif and the three warriors out the back hall. We travel through the secret passages until we reach the king's separate feasting chambers. Thor and Loki talk to each from behind the closed doors.

"Sigyn, Odin will have you banished if you're seen with Loki," Sif says, resting her hand on my shoulder. "Go be with your sisters. We will keep you informed."

I understand she means well, but the pang of being excluded hits my chest.

"I'm so sorry," Fandral apologizes for the ridiculousness of his king.

"It's alright." I smile through the desire to cry. "I understand. I know you mean well. I will catch up with you later, my friends."

But I don't. I spend the afternoon listening to the wild theories of my sisters and the coronation attendees. Everything from Frost Giants to Muspel Giants and every monster in between is speculated to have ruined Thor's big day.

I don't hear from any of my friends until I'm back alone on my balcony. Loki appears beside me. It's a comforting sight, but I know he's not with me. I can always tell when he's using an illusion.

"I wish I had time to comfort you, my love."

"What's going on, Loki?"

"Three Jotnar slipped into Asgard under Heimdall's watch. Thor is taking us to Jotunheim to confront Laufey as we speak. He is too angry. I fear he will lead us to our death. You must warn my father."

"I want to be there with you."

"For this one moment, I'm glad you are not. I don't know what's going to happen when we get there."

As soon as he disappears, I run to the throne room, pushing past guests and sisters and distant relatives. My matter is urgent. The lives of his sons are at stake.

"My King, I must speak with you. Thor is on his way to Jotunheim."

He is not shocked, but he is angry. I have never seen fury on Odin's face before, and it is an appearance I never want to see again. Frigga touches his arm, much like how Loki touched mine. The All-Father calms. "Thank you, young Sigyn. Your duty and service to your people is appreciated and highly valued. There is no one else I can see as Queen of Vanaheim."

"You must go to them," the queen says.

"Yes, have a stable boy fetch my horse."

* * *

**A NORDIC FUN FACT OF THE DAY:** Odin's horse is actually the 8-legged Sleipnir. He's noted as the fastest steed in all the realms... and Loki's son. Sleipnir is the only one of Loki's children to not be parented by Angrboda or Sigyn.


	18. Chapter 18

While my sisters return home to finish the final wedding preparations, Frigga and I anxiously await the arrival of our people. Late into the evening, they do come back. Sif and the warriors approach first. Fandral is taken the healer for a large impaling wound in his chest. Volstagg is treated for frostbite on his lower arm. Nothing went as it was supposed to. Odin is told to be reprimanding Thor for his actions.

Theoric and I spend the evening with Sif and Hogun, listening to their retelling of the events on Jotunheim. Apparently, Thor waged battle on Jotunheim after being taunted by Laufey. These actions could spark up another war between the Frost Giants and Asgardians. War is something that neither party needs. Volstagg and Fandral return only a few hours later, just as concerned as the rest of us are.

Loki eventually comes back. Thor does not. He storms into the den, only to freeze when he sees Theoric. The tears in his eyes turn cold, full of a hatred I've never seen in him before.

"Where is Thor?" Sif demands.

The prince struggles to even get the words out. "Odin has banished him from Asgard."

Everything in the room drops. Arguments and accusations erupt.

"He has been cast out, powerless on Midgard."

"We must convince the All-Father to change his mind."

"I've already attempted it," Loki says. "He will listen to no one. He's closed the Bifrost, too. No one is allowed in or out until he's subdued Laufey's anger."

No one's allowed to leave, which means my wedding is to be delayed. Relief pounds hard in my chest. From out of so much horror and despair comes the tiniest glimmer of light. I have more time to spend with the one I love before I'm ripped from him forever.

Theoric catches onto this thought. "Does that mean our wedding must be postponed?"

Loki tries his best to keep his cool. "So it would seem."

"We have to inform your mother of this change," the knight says. "Come with me, Sigyn. I fear Freya's wrath if we do not."

There's something he's not telling me. He's not truly determined to tell my mother of the delay. There must be another reason he's drawing me out of the room.

"Yes, I agree." I follow him out, sparing one last glance at Loki before he disappears behind the golden doors. I hope that one look is enough to ensure that he'll come to visit me in the night.

"Do you love him?"

"What?" The question shocks me out of my thoughts. "Who?"

"That prince, Loki."

"I–" How do I even answer? I'm not going to hurt any unrequited feelings by telling him the truth, but what am I going to get out of it? What will he do with the information? "Yes. Yes, I do."

He takes both of my hands in his. "Then let's convince Freya to cancel the wedding, just for now."

I blink up at the most feared warrior in all the realms. Behind all of that blood and ferocity is a gentleness that I've never seen out of anyone else. Not even Loki. "How could we even do that?"

"Now's the perfect time," he says. "Odin's shut off the Bifrost, Asgard's throne is open-ended, and let's face the truth: we're both needed here. Asgard needs a defender like myself, and you- well, you need to be here for obvious reasons."

It's a marvelous excuse, but I don't understand. "I thought you wanted to be King of Vanaheim. Aren't you hurting yourself in the process?"

"Perhaps," Theoric confesses, "but what is a king if he is just a trophy? In staying here, I will learn all that you did. I will become educated, famous in my own right– on my own terms. This is my time to prepare for all the glory and hardships the throne will bring me. I don't want to face the same fate as Thor has."

This is a man who cares about his people more than his selfish desires. This is a knight who prizes the love of his lady more than a throne.

"Besides, now you get more time with him."

He almost sounds sad when he says it. My gut pangs with an internal ache.

"I cannot thank you enough, Theoric."

"I'll speak with your mother tonight. Go, now. Go to him."

I squeeze his hands, giving him my thanks one more time before going back to the den. By the time I get there, Loki has already left. I wait at Sif's side for hours, but he doesn't come. No one does. We're left alone all throughout the afternoon and evening.

Eventually, the night falls. The warriors decide to stay together to figure out a plan to bring Thor back, but I return to my chambers. Loki should be coming shortly, then I can find out what truly happened on Jotunheim. We can be together, and I can comfort him until the moonlight fades. We can rejoice in Theoric's generosity.

But again, he doesn't come. I wait until the early hours of the morning for his arrival, but he never comes to me. Snotra doesn't come to wake me. Hogun doesn't invite me to breakfast. Not even Theoric stops by to say good morning as he always does.

Asgard ceases to move. I pace endlessly throughout the palace, but it feels dead. I don't even recognize the faces of my friends, for they all look as though they're not even here. The day is spent in my confusion. Loki, Odin, nor Frigga emerges from their chambers. Sif and the warriors sulk about in the den all day. I spend mine with Bygul.

We ride out to the very edge of the palace orchid, where Loki and I first met. I read books and comb through my cat's blue-grey fur. Bygul and I catch up, as though we're old friends. How I long to ride him freely through Asgard, as Thor and I once did. That freedom has been taken, as has Thor.

"Lady Sigyn." A guard approaches me, setting his staff on the ground. "Prince Loki has requested your presence at his chambers at once."

He's never ordered me to see him. Up until now, he's always surprised me with his visits. Doesn't he know if the All-Father sees me that I am to be banished?

I thank the guard for his information and take Bygul back to the stable before entering the palace. The sun sets slowly through the jagged horizon as I reach Loki's door. I check the halls twice before knocking; Odin's eyes could be anywhere. My knuckles don't even reach the door, and it opens.

His chambers are darker than I remember. Books and shelves and artifacts are thrown about as if Loki destroyed his room in a fit of rage. However, he is not to be found.

"Loki?" I shut the door behind me, relying on nothing but a few lit candles to guide my path. "Loki? Are you in here?"

"I'm in here," he says from the back room. His voice sounds like rocks as if he's been crying or screaming for hours on end. Something has happened.

I run to him in the darkness. My feet trip and stumble over his decimated furniture. He faces away from me in the dimly lit bedroom. My mind occupies horrors that a lover should never have to host. When I try to touch his arm, he jerks away from me.

"I am Loki, son of Odin."

"I know who you are," I ease his grief with a gentle voice.

"No, you don't." He grows weepy, speaking only through clenched teeth.

"You are kind," I begin. "You are brilliant. You are the brother of Thor and the son of Frigga. You are a prince of Asgard. And I–"

"What?" He spits. "You love me? How can you claim such a thing when you don't even know who I am? I am the enemy of your people and of my own! Look at me, Sigyn! Is this the monster you still claim to love? Look and see who I am! I am– I am–"

Loki turns on a whim, revealing his true nature amidst the candles. My mouth falls open, my eyes grow wide. The blood leaves my face and enters my heart. Loki stands a few feet ahead of me, adorned in Jotnar tribal markings and that familiar, horrifying tint of blue.

"You are the lost son of Laufey."

He crumples into himself. I go to touch him again, but he pulls away once more.

"You cannot touch me in this form. I will only harm you."

As if on command, he wills his skin to change colors back to his Aesir, fair shade. I wrap my arms around his neck, but his shoulders only shake.

"I am a monster. I am your enemy, Sigyn."

"You are not like your kind. You're not like them, Loki."

"Aren't I?" He growls. "I have their blood, so I must be the mindless, vicious beasts you know them to be. I am just like them."

"Am I like my mother?"

"No."

"Then you do not have to be like your– like Laufey. You can be better. You are better, my heart."

"How can you even say such a thing? You can't still love me."

"Asgardian or Jotun, I shall always love you. You will always be _my_ Loki."

"And you, my Sigyn."

* * *

**A NOT NORDIC FUN FACT OF THE DAY:** Loki is actually quite small for his race. If you look at the typical sizes of the Jotuns, they're almost a foot taller than Marvel's Loki. Conveniently for Odin, Loki was just the perfect size to fit in with the smaller, skinnier race of Asgardians.


	19. Chapter 19

"That is not the only news I must share with you," he says. "Odin has fallen into Odinsleep. There is talk of him never waking again. With Thor banished, and Father asleep..."

I fall back onto his bed, stunned. Shall Loki ever give my heart a break tonight?

"You're the King of Asgard?"

"For the time being, yes. Maybe if I can secure favor with our people, I can keep the throne. If Odin wakes and sees that I've kept the nine realms at peace, he might–" Loki fumbles over his words. "He might be inclined to let me keep it. He'll see that I am the successor he seeks."

And for the night, I let him have his fantasy. He is too fragile tonight to bash his hopes right now. So I allow him to keep them. Odin is never going to let a Frost Giant take the throne of Asgard. Such a notion is absurd, perhaps even treasonous. If Loki keeps the throne, he must also keep his heritage a secret forever.

"My first rule as king will be to make you my queen," he promises, locking our hands together. Slowly, sleep takes hold of him. He drifts away just as the sun rises. I want to take his peaceful silence to comprehend everything I saw and heard last night, but I find that I cannot.

In a matter of hours, we will wake. Loki will take his place as King, and me? I will stay by his side, doing whatever I can to help. However, I don't want to be a queen. I want nothing to do with the empire of liars and murderers. Loki is impressionable. He will do whatever he can to keep his place on the throne, even if it means becoming a liar and a murderer, himself. I cannot let him do that.

The morning starts with an empty bed. It also ends with an empty one. I hardly see Loki at all throughout the day. He doesn't call for my presence, and whenever I do see him, he's surrounded by officials and royalty. He spares all of the glances and touches he can, but it doesn't amount to anything more.

My friends are unusually quiet, probably planning for someway to bring Thor back. I understand why I'm not included. They think my loyalty lies with Loki, which it does. I will always put his needs over their own, but sometimes that means saving Loki from himself. I just wish they would allow me to help. Theoric is also absent. I see him in the feasting hall once. Just as we lock eyes, he walks the other way.

"Theoric!" I chase after him. "Did you tell my mother?"

"Yes," he informs, looking green in the face. "She has canceled the wedding, now if you'll excuse me, Sigyn."

The most feared warrior in all the realms pushes past me, running for the nearest restroom. He's sickly, vomiting everything in his gut. When he comes out, his eyes are glazed over. He can barely stand. I know who's work this is.

"Truly, Loki?" I storm into the throne room unannounced. "You're making him sick. I know it's you."

He sends away his advisors, acting as though his spell is no big deal. "If he's sick, there can be no wedding."

"You fool! He's already canceled the wedding. Theoric called it off for you and I."

"Why would he do such a thing?"

"Because he cares about me–" It feels wrong in my throat. "– because he cares about having a loveless marriage? I don't know, Loki. But he did it so we can be together."

"And they say chivalry is dead."

"Call off your spell."

"Why do you care so much, Sigyn?" He walks closer and closer until we're inches apart. There's something different about him. Perhaps his helmet is too tight or the pressure of ruling is getting to him.

"You're making him suffer!"

The king repeats his question. "Why do you care?"

"He did something nice for me, and you make him ill. You should be showing your gratitude. Not your distaste."

Loki flings his hand up, calling off his magic. "There, are you happy?"

"No," I say, resting my hand on the side of his face. "What happened to the gentle, sweet prince who slept in my arms last night? Where is he?"

Sorrow pools in his eyes. "He is not here, my love. The throne of Asgard requires steel and metal, not softness. I must become what my people need. I'll see you tonight."

And that's it. That's the last I see of him during the day. I anxiously await his arrival in his chambers, but he doesn't come during the night, either. Eventually, I fall asleep in his bed only to wake when he finally returns. The sun is peeking above the horizon. Loki looks exhausted and older. It's as if he aged ten years in one day of having the throne.

He drifts off almost instantly, still clad in his kingly garb. I stay awake, stroking through dark hair, easing him to peace.

Again, the same day happens. I feel stuck in some sort of loop. My friends have disappeared. Theoric does everything to avoid me, and Loki escapes behind the throne. Finally, around dinner time, the king calls me into his presence.

He's sipping on a chalice of wine, appearing to be highly pleased with himself. "My queen."

"Your queen? Loki, I'm not- I'm not your queen."

"Why not? I have deemed it so."

"The title will just be stripped from me once Odin wakes, or Thor returns."

Loki stands. "I have already ensured that Thor will not come back."

"And Odin?"

"I will keep him where he sleeps for as long as I need him there." He takes my hands. "Sigyn, this is finally our chance. Why do you not understand this? I am finally getting everything I ever wanted."

I pull away from him, anger flaring on my fingertips. "Is this how you wanted to get it? There is a throne waiting for you on Jotunheim. Taking the throne like this isn't how you want to rise in power. If you intend to prove to Odin that you are the right son for the throne, this is not how you do it! This is– this is cowardly, Loki. This isn't the king you want to be."

"Better a cowardly king than none at all," he remarks. "So what, will you not do all that you've already promised? Will you not pledge your fidelity to me? Will you not stand by me? Now that I've strayed from the path you wanted for me, do you take it all back, Sigyn?"

"Of course not! I would never. How dare you accuse me of such a thing. I will always stand at your side, but I will not stand by idly while you ruin your life."

"I'm merely taking what has been mine since birth."

"Not here," I plead. "If the Asgardians find out of your heritage, they will not hesitate to remove you. It's what they do best. They rewrite their history to glorify themselves. You know this, and yet you are giving into their game!"

"I am the creator of the game they play! I change the rules, now. They have no option but to keep me. I am their king." His temper cools at the tears in my eyes. He sweeps them away with his thumb. "And all I ask is for you to be their queen. A Jotun and Vanir on the throne of the Asgard would be monumental. We could fix the future for all peoples, Sigyn."

"Give me time to consider it, please. I didn't even want the throne of Vanaheim. Taking the mantle of All-Mother is such a responsibility. Please, let me think it over."

"Yes." Loki kisses my lips gently, not once, not twice, but three times. "Yes, I understand. We will talk tonight."

My feet practically run out of the throne room once he lets me go. Sif, Hogun, Volstagg, and Fandral are waiting for me. Their hair stands on end. Each of them has a hand on their weapon. They keep up these precautionary measures all the way through the palace. We only stop once we reach the gates.

"We need to know where your loyalty lies."

"Loki needs to be saved. My loyalty is with him, but Thor needs to come back. He needs to talk some sense into his brother."

"We're going to Thor tonight. Distract Loki for as long as you can, but do not get yourself caught. If he finds out that you've betrayed him, I fear the actions he will take."

"I am not betraying him," I demand through my tears. "I am trying to save him."

"As are we," Fandral promises. "Once we return with Thor, all will be made right."

"Go, my friends. Go before it is too late."

* * *

**A NORDIC FUN FACT OF THE DAY:** Norse Loki is actually a god of fire. He's also theorized to be the brother of Odin.


End file.
